


the other side of paradise

by tropicalpigeon



Category: The Legend of Zelda: A Link Between Worlds
Genre: (he signs with everyone except people he's very very close to like zelda), Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Coming Out, Everyone Is Gay, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lesbian!Hilda, M/M, Ravioli, T for language violence and a lil making out, e.g. called the king of hyrule (who just. doesnt exist in albw ig) king rhoam, gay!Link, gay!ravio, i used bits and pieces of botw lore to fill in the lack of lore in albw, im gay so i made every character gay, it took me SO LONG but here's my 2nd ravioli fic!!, king!yuga, knight!hilda, lesbian!zelda, link is zeldas appointed knight like botw, prince!ravio, selectively mute!link, title is from a glass animals song but the song isnt relevant i just liked the title, updates on Wednesdays, zelda is arranged to marry prince ravio. shenanigans ensue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24531229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tropicalpigeon/pseuds/tropicalpigeon
Summary: Zelda and Link came out to each other as gay at the age of thirteen and twelve respectively. It hadn't been an issue until Zelda turned 18 and King Rhoam informed her that she'd been arranged to marry Prince Ravio from Lorule, Hyrule's old sister kingdom that had turned reclusive centuries ago, in the hopes of forming an allegiance. She dreaded it and begged King Rhoam to reconsider, but he stayed firm and tried to convince her the marriage wouldn't be all that bad.She wasn't expecting him to come out to her as gay, too.--Arranged Marriage AU: Hilda is Prince Ravio's appointed knight and Yuga is king of Lorule; oops, the prince and princess fall for each other's knight; Ravioli with some background Zelda/Hilda
Relationships: Link/Ravio (Legend of Zelda), background/implied zelda/hilda
Comments: 16
Kudos: 154





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I said I'd write another Ravioli fic, and here I am... 2.5 months later, oops. I've been mulling this fic over in my head for a while, and I'm so excited to finally write it! Enjoy! (Also, sorry for formatting--for some reason, my laptop doesn't copy over indents when I paste into AO3. [Edit: fixed the formatting issues!])

Link and Zelda came out to each other at the same time.

It was a week after Zelda’s thirteenth birthday and a few weeks before Link’s. She called him into her room after his sword training for the day, right when the sun was beginning to set and the clouds were rolling in from the east, and he ascended the staircase to her sleeping quarters as soon as practice was over. Link opened the door cautiously, careful not to disturb the princess. When he entered, he saw her standing at an open window, her blonde hair fluttering in the breeze and her face painted in seriousness. She heard him enter and turned to face him, folding her hands in front of her daintily as she’d been trained to do. He quickly became hyperaware of his still-sweaty form, probably still blushed bright red from the physical activity, in the serene presence of the princess. Out of instinct, he fell to one knee in a display of deference—he was her knight, after all. She shook her head gently and said, “Link, you know that’s not necessary. Come, sit with me.”

Zelda sat at the window bay and Link came to sit beside her. He felt his gut twist in anxiety; the princess was never so serious, and her face was never as withdrawn and melancholy as it was now. She refused to make eye contact with him, so he simply followed her gaze and looked outside the window at the Hyrule Castle courtyard below. Tiny soldiers and guards patrolled the premises with such purpose, and if Link squinted, he could make out a few gardeners tending to the topiaries and flowers. The late summer sun had settled a humidity onto the yard that had yet to reach the princess’s tower, and Link was grateful for the evening wind that helped settle his nerves. He ran his fingers through his damp, dirty blonde bangs in an attempt to clean his appearance the slightest bit to no avail.

Zelda sighed and her brows furrowed. Link could see her bite the inside of her cheek anxiously, and to quell her worries, he placed a hand on her knee gingerly. The corner of her mouth quirked up in a smile for a split second before she brought her own hand up to twist at her long hair, a longtime nervous tic of hers. “Link, you’re going to have to promise to keep what I tell you a secret, okay?”

Link nodded fervently.

“I mean _secret_. Not even my father can know,” Zelda reiterated, her tone of voice deathly serious.

Link nodded again and held eye contact with her, communicating that he was just as sincere as she was.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “I... um. I’m gay.” When her eyes opened, they were so full of sky-blue sadness and fear that all Link could do was hug her as hard as he could. She gladly accepted the hug and gently rested her hands on his shoulder blades, and he felt her exhale shakily. The seconds felt like hours, and the slowing effect was exacerbated by the quickly diminishing sunlight. She hiccupped against his chest, and his heart twisted. He could feel her racing heartbeat. The last thing he wanted was for the princess to cry, so he held her impossibly tighter. He hoped that she understood what he was saying—that it was okay, that he was still her best friend, that he still loved her.

Her pulse was gradually slowing, though, and her breathing was coming easier and easier as time went on. During the silence, Link was deep in thought. When Link figured that most of her tension had faded away, he took a deep breath and whispered into the nape of her neck, “Me too,” with his hoarse, barely-used voice.

She pulled away immediately and looked at him with an incredulous expression, her eyes still watery. “Wh-What?” she stammered. He shrugged nonchalantly, making her bury her face in her hands. “Oh Hylia, of _course_ ,” she mumbled, and the smile was audible in her voice as she wiped her eyes. Once her eyes were dry, she sat back on her heels and simply looked at him for a minute, her face full of an indescribable emotion. Relief, maybe? Affection? Humor? Link never was good at reading people, even Zelda. After a while, she finally spoke. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Deal?” she said, offering her pinkie finger.

He wished they didn’t have to make this deal. He wished she didn’t feel so scared about telling him, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little scared to tell her, too. Not to mention, how would the king react? That not only his daughter, but her appointed knight was gay? The thought made anxiety knot in his stomach, even though he admired the king as if he were his own father—after growing up side-by-side with Zelda, he practically was. He took her pinkie in his own and shook, a weight lifted from his shoulders (and it was safe to assume from hers, too).

△

Link stood by Zelda’s side, as always. She had grown to be a couple of inches taller than him in the years since, but as he was her knight, he was far more physically adept than she, with broader shoulders and more musculature despite his still-small frame. Her father, King Rhoam, was seated in his huge throne before the pair, looking upon them with a familiar warmth in his benevolent eyes. “My dear Zelda,” he began jovially, his booming bass voice rattling Link to the core, “how did you enjoy your birthday celebrations?”

Zelda smoothed her dress with her hands and smiled. “They were wonderful, Father. Even Queen Oren of the Zora bid me happy birthday,” she said, and Link couldn’t help but grin too, remembering the night previous. The princess’s birthday celebration was always one of the happiest days in Hyrule, and yesterday was no exception, especially since it was her coming-of-age.

“Wonderful! I still cannot believe that you’re already eighteen; it feels like just yesterday you were a petulant toddler, begging me to check under your bed for moblins,” he chuckled.

“Father!” Zelda whined, embarrassed even though the room was empty aside from them and a handful of guards.

King Rhoam wiped a nonexistent tear from his eye and continued. “Yes, yes. However, I’m sure you’re aware that, now that you’re of age, you have more responsibilities as princess.” The shift in his tone made Link anticipate the worst.

He heard Zelda swallow nervously next to him. “Yes, Father.”

King Rhoam cleared his throat and broke the news. “As part of those responsibilities, you have been arranged to marry a prince from Lorule at summer’s end.” _Lorule?_ Link thought, his eyes wide. Lorule, the neighboring kingdom to Hyrule, was an incredibly isolated sovereignty despite its close proximity to other countries. From what Link had heard, it was rife with issues, and King Rhoam had been trying to annex it for years.

Zelda gasped, and Link shot her a look laden with sympathy. This was the worst-case scenario. They both knew it was coming soon, but neither realized it was _this_ soon, and especially not with a prince from the recluse kingdom of Lorule. She weakly protested, “But Father, I haven’t even met him. How am I supposed to marry already?” but her defeat was already clear in her tone.

The king stood from his throne and began to approach. “You know how it goes, my sweet Zelda. I postponed your marriage for as long as I could, but I’m afraid it’s inevitable at this point. Lorule has opened negotiations with Hyrule for the first time in centuries, and this is what we need to secure their allegiance. As much as I hate to admit it, you’re the best bargaining chip we have.” He held her cheek in his large palm affectionately and Link could see her eyes shut tightly in an attempt to suppress tears. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have to, but you know as well as I that it’s your duty as princess. He’s a wonderful young man, if it’s any consolation. Imagine how prosperous our kingdoms will become!”

Zelda’s fists curled into balls by her sides, and Link felt as if his feet were cemented in place. “When will I get to meet him?”

“The royalty of Lorule are coming to visit at the end of the week. I will personally give King Yuga a tour of Hyrule Castle and the surrounding area while Impa introduces you to the young prince.”

“Will Link be there, too?” she asked with a wavering voice.

“Of course, if you so wish.” King Rhoam looked at Link, seemingly searching for reassurance, and he offered him none.  
“I do.”

“Then it’s decided. I love you very much, my princess. I have other matters to attend to in preparation for King Yuga’s visit, so I’ll let you return to your living quarters now to process,” King Rhoam stated, running his hand down her crown of hair one last time.

“I love you too, Father,” Zelda muttered, and even Link could feel the trace of bitterness in her even, well-trained tone. “Come, Link.” She left the room briskly, and Link followed close behind. Once out of earshot of the king, Zelda broke out into a run. Link flanked her all the way through the courtyard and into her sleeping quarters in the tower.

Her room hadn’t moved since she was a child. She still lived in the top room of the westernmost tower, with wide windows and plenty of lavish adornments: her bed was a huge four-poster with soft satin sheets and fluffy sky blue pillows, a messy desk overflowing with books pushed against one window, an ornate dresser rested against a wall, and a lush white Lynel-fur carpet laid in the center of the stone floor. The afternoon sun drifted in from all around, casting Zelda in a golden light as she rubbed her eyes vigorously. Link gently took her by the shoulder and led her to sit on the bed, and as soon as she touched the duvet she burst into tears.

Zelda cried onto Link’s shoulder for a long time. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, uncomfortable with physical contact but desperate to comfort her in any way possible since his selective mutism definitely wouldn’t cooperate should he try to speak to her. (He never was particularly good at comforting people.) “I should have t-told him sooner,” she bawled, scrubbing at a teary eye with one hand while balancing herself on the bed with the other. “Maybe I—Maybe I could’ve prevented this.”

Link simply shook his head and took her hand in his own, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles comfortingly. He hoped that he conveyed that nothing could have prevented this, that this was just an unavoidable facet of royal life, no matter the sexuality, that he was there for her and had been for ten years. Sitting in Princess Zelda’s room, comforting her, reminded him of that evening five years ago; the thought filled him with a bitter melancholia. If anything, it was a miracle she hadn’t been married off sooner.

“You’re right,” Zelda exhaled, seemingly understanding what he meant. “I just—I’m only eighteen. I was hoping...” She trailed off, bursting into another round of sniffles and tears that eventually mellowed out once more. “I hope he’s nice.”

△

A week later, Princess Zelda sat in her smaller throne beside her father, and Link stood by her side with his stance wide and face neutral, ready to protect her if the need arose as always. Today was the day of King Yuga’s visit, and the entire castle was filled with a nervous, high-strung energy that seemed inescapable. Every servant and guard was determined to impress the Lorulean royalty, but Link wasn’t so eager to please. He’d heard stories of the hard times that had fallen over Lorule, and he couldn’t help but be skeptical of its leaders. It was peculiar that they had finally opened communication, however, so he tried to exude neutrality instead of hostility.

The throne room doors flew open and in entered who Link could only assume was King Yuga. A tall, skinny man, he had flowing orange hair and a prominent nose as well as a sickly pale pallor to his skin. His eyelids were painted red, and his dark eyeliner combined with faint eyebrows gave him a wild, unsettling expression. A ruby circlet held his vermilion curls out of his face, and huge, diamond earrings hung from his pointed ears. The insignia on his royal garb resembled an inverse Hyrule crest. Everything about his unusual appearance was unnerving to Link; was this what everyone in Lorule looked like? He looked like a caricature of a wizard, not a regal king.

Behind him was a shorter boy who must have been the prince of Lorule and Zelda’s betrothed. He looked nothing like his father, with inky, black hair; bright, green, kohl-lined eyes; and a timid demeanor. Despite the early summer weather, he wore a black and blue striped scarf around his neck that covered the lower part of his chin as well. His hair was a black swoop over his forehead, and two flowing tails hung in front of his ears in a similar style to Link’s while the rest hung down his neck, adorned with silver hair rings and jewelry. Next to him was a girl who looked so similar she could have been his sister, but judging by her armor, she was likely his appointed knight like Link was to Zelda. Her long indigo hair was half-pulled into a bun, and her piercing red eyes left no doubt of her fierceness in battle. The reflection of light off of her iron armor chestplate was blinding.

“Welcome to Hyrule, Your Majesty,” King Rhoam announced genially. While King Yuga and King Rhoam exhanged pleasantries and greetings, Link closely watched the prince. He was worrying at his lip with his teeth and fiddling with the many rings on his fingers... was he anxious? He couldn’t have been much older than Link, and he looked much less comfortable in his regalia than Princess Zelda. The more Link thought about it, the more it made sense, though; Lorule had always been incredibly secretive and closed to other states, so this was likely his first time presenting himself to a non-Lorulean audience. It certainly seemed like it.

Link wasn’t listening to what King Yuga was saying, but his nasally voice rang strident on his ears. As King Yuga and King Rhoam began making their way to the courtyard flanked by tens of guards, Impa took charge and gestured for Zelda to stand. “Please follow me, Your Highnesses,” she stated warmly, gesturing to the opposite door. Link held out his elbow for Zelda to loosely hold as they walked, and their Lorule counterparts mirrored their actions. Impa led the fiances and their knights through the right-hand side of the courtyard, and through the corner of his eye, Link noticed the prince looking around in childlike awe and wonder at the fountains and gardens as if he’d never seen a castle before. It only strengthened Link’s curiosity about what Lorule was like.

They reached one of many sitting rooms, this one at the base of Princess Zelda’s tower. Huge windows let in plenty of sunlight and illuminated the bright aqua and gold adornments on the seats, rug, and tables. The room was small and octagonal, like Zelda’s a few floors up, and a handful of wing chairs faced the center of the room. “I suppose I should introduce you, Your Highnesses. Princess Zelda and Sir Link of Hyrule, this is Prince Ravio of Lorule and his knight, Dame Hilda,” Impa said, smiling with her wrinkled mouth. _Ravio_ , thought Link, rolling the name around in his mind. He finally decided that the name suited him well.

Ravio and Zelda politely bowed and curstied respectively before taking their seats. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ravio,” Zelda greeted quietly, smoothing down her dress over her lap. Link and Hilda shook hands firmly, and that wild look in her eyes remained even as she stepped back to stand by Ravio’s side. Her red irises were haunting, a striking contrast to Ravio’s timid emerald eyes the color of green Rupees.

“You as well. I’ve been very excited to finally see the prosperous Hyrule and meet its wonderful princess,” Ravio gushed. His voice was soft, but he talked quickly and passionately. Definitely easier on the ears than Yuga, Link thought.

A beat of silence followed. Clearly, the royalty were inexperienced in this area. Ravio’s eyes darted between Zelda and Impa, and Zelda explained, “How rude of me! Allow me to introduce you to Impa; she’s been my tutor and caretaker since I was a baby, as well as a dear friend of my father’s.”

Impa shook Ravio’s hand as enthusiastically as an elderly woman could. “We are absolutely overjoyed that you and King Yuga have decided to come visit us,” she said, clasping both of her hands around his, her lilac braids hanging as she hunched over to meet his seated height.

Once she retreated to Zelda’s side, there was another long silence. Link suspected it was awkward as a result of Impa’s presence. Even if Zelda _was_ straight, how was she supposed to get to know her future husband while her maternal figure breathed down her neck? After a moment, Zelda finally cleared her throat. “Impa, do you mind if we could have some privacy for just a minute?”

“Oh! Alright, Your Highness. Do you want Sir Link and Dame Hilda to leave as well?”

“No. No, they’re fine,” deadpanned Zelda.

Impa looked between Zelda and Link, and Link fought down a smile. Leave it to Zelda to be as blunt as possible while still managing to sound polite. “...Alright. I’ll be back with tea in a tick.”

When the door closed behind Impa, Ravio breathed an audible sigh of relief and slouched in his seat. “Thank you so much. I didn’t want to be rude,” he exhaled, his already-cracking posh demeanor gone in an instant. His rings and jewelry clinked against each other as he ran a hand through his hair. Link watched him in amusement; he was very trusting, wasn’t he?

Zelda laughed, and Link could tell that she was glad to relax as well. He’d sat through many, many diplomatic dinners by Zelda’s side where she wasn’t allowed to do much but stand tall and look pretty. “No problem, Ravio.”

“Before we continue, I feel like there’s something you need to know about me, and I promise that if you wish I can urge my father to cancel the wedding because of it,” Ravio said rapidly, as if he would change his mind halfway through if he didn’t. Hilda shot him a wide-eyed look of shock and he met her gaze and simply nodded. She pressed her lips together and looked forward once more. “My father is unaware, but... I’m actually gay.”

Link and Zelda both blinked in surprise and then immediately burst into laughter. While Link’s was more of a silent chuckle, Zelda’s laugh was uproarious, and Link could see Ravio’s eyebrows knit together in worry. Hilda whispered something in Ravio’s ear, and Ravio’s fingers balled into fists in his lap. “You’ve got to be kidding!” Zelda howled.

Ravio’s bottom lip began to tremble. “In that case, I’ll talk to my father, and hopefully we can—”

“So sorry, Your Highness, my knight and I don’t intend to be cruel. It’s just... I’m a lesbian,” she confessed gleefully, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye.

At that, Ravio’s face went through a myriad of emotions before finally landing on incredulity. The tension melted from his shoulders and he began to giggle, too, while Hilda remained stoic for the most part and screwed up her mouth to suppress a grin. “You have no idea how much of a relief that is, Princess,” he grinned madly, grabbing both of her dainty hands in his pale, jewelry-covered ones gratefully.

“I think I do, Prince,” Zelda replied with a smile, and Ravio simply shook his head in quiet laughter. Link found it endearing; even though he already disliked King Yuga, his son was starting to grow on him. What were the odds?

As if on cue, a knock sounded from behind the heavy wooden door to the study, and it opened without waiting for a response. Impa entered with an ornate tea set on a golden platter that Link hadn’t seen since he and Zelda were children playing tea party with her father’s china (King Rhoam never could say no to Zelda when she was young) and placed it gingerly on the table between Zelda and Ravio. “Earl Grey—Zelda’s favorite—with plenty of Moo Moo milk. I’m glad you two seem to be getting on all right,” she chirped, her voice far too perky for a woman as old as she. Link suspected she was living vicariously through Zelda.

“We’re getting on just fine,” Zelda said, a coy smirk on her face. “What’s Lorule like, Ravio?”

Ravio’s smile faltered the slightest bit. “Well, it’s, um... It’s wonderful,” he began, tugging at his scarf. “It’s very different from Hyrule, I must say. Everything here is so bright and colorful! It’s absolutely lovely,” he gushed, fidgeting as he spoke. “Lorule is much more muted, I think. The wildlife here is very different, and the people as well. I’m excited to spend more time here in the future.”

Link’s eyes narrowed. He dodged that question with the grace of a bull in a china shop.

“I’m glad you feel that way,” Zelda responded, stirring her tea before taking a long sip. She shot a glance at Link over the rim of her teacup, and he knew that Zelda made the same observation he did. “Dame Hilda, how are you feeling about the engagement?”

Hilda nodded her head slightly in a display of deference. “I’m excited we have the opportunity to align with Hyrule, Your Highness. It’s historically unprecedented for Lorule, so I am grateful to be a part of this momentous occasion.” She looked fondly down at her prince, placing a hand on his shoulder. “And I’m glad to see Ravio finally get married. I was worried he’d be a bachelor forever.”

“Hey!” Ravio protested, a pink flush growing on his fair skin. “You’re making it sound like I’m much older than I actually am,” he grumbled, crossing his arms like a child. “I’m only eighteen.”

Link blinked in surprise. He’d assumed he was younger, maybe fifteen or sixteen, by his stature and demeanor, but he was older than Link (for a few weeks, anyway).

Ravio changed the subject after taking a long drink of tea. “How about you and Sir Link?”

Link cleared his throat and hoped that he would be able to speak. “We’re honored,” he rasped, shifting his weight on his hips slightly.

Zelda quirked an eyebrow at his unexpected speech. “We certainly are.”

Impa petted Zelda’s flaxen hair. “We’ll have to get you fitted for a dress soon,” she cooed.

“And we’ll have to force Link into a suit,” Zelda teased, taking another sip of her tea. Link scrunched his nose up at the thought; he absolutely abhorred fancy dress, but thankfully, he was able to wear his knight’s armor in most upscale situations. Just imagining the texture of a suit on his skin sent an unpleasant shiver down his spine. The first (and only time) she and King Rhoam forced him into a suit forced him into sensory overload within ten minutes, and he’d practically clawed it off. Ugh.

Ravio smiled meekly. “I bet my father already has an outfit picked out for me and Hilda. He’s very... aesthetically-driven, in case you couldn’t tell.”

Link could, in fact, tell. King Yuga’s clothes bordered on garish: glittering, comically large earrings, striped parachute pants with a long black robe over top, pointed golden shoes, a dramatic purple cape that matched Ravio’s tunic, and thick makeup. It really was difficult to believe that he was King Yuga’s son; the difference between the two was like night and day. Imagining Ravio with even a quarter of King Yuga’s flamboyance was impossible.

The fiances continued conversing benignly about nothing at all until a guard entered and stated that it was time for Prince Ravio to leave. The royalty stood, and Ravio bowed and kissed Zelda’s hand chivalrously. “It was great meeting you, Princess,” he said, and Link noted how much more comfortable he seemed now than when they entered the room.

In response, Zelda went to kiss his cheek opposite Impa, and Link watched her whisper in his ear something that his Hylian ears could barely pick up as “We’re in this together.” She fell back, and she and Ravio looked like they had been friends for years. “Will you be visiting again soon?”

“Very soon,” Ravio replied. “We’re arriving once more in Hyrule next Sunday, and we’ll be staying for a month. It was great meeting you too, Sir Link.” He shook Link’s hand, and Link was taken aback by how cold his fingers were. Ravio’s eyes looked even more vividly green up close like this, and Link didn’t notice before that they were exactly the same height. He also realized that Ravio had a handful of barely-visible freckles on his paper-pale nose.

He bowed his head. “You as well, Your Highness.” Link’s voice was rough from a lack of use, and it surprised him when he heard it; typically, he couldn’t speak unless he was comfortable and had known the person for years, like Zelda or King Rhoam. Ravio looked at him for a second more with an unreadable expression on his face before leaving the room with Hilda by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! The other chapters will be longer, I promise. Comments & kudos are greatly appreciated! This fic updates on Wednesdays, so see you in a week! :)


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for the positive response!
> 
> I also managed to fix some of the formatting issues! I'll probably go back and reupload chapter 1 soon to match. Anyway, here's chapter 2 :)

After that, arrangements were made for Prince Ravio and Dame Hilda to stay in Hyrule for a month.

Zelda was ecstatic on the Sunday morning when their coach arrived, not for romantic reasons, obviously, but for excitement at having friends. Link and Zelda were each other’s sole friend, so the arrival of Ravio and Hilda who seemed to be kindred spirits was game-changing.

The first day began with Zelda whisking Hilda away to one of the sitting rooms to chat. Beforehand, while Link was helping her get ready for the day, she announced whilst brushing her hair, “Link, you know I love you very much, but I am terribly excited to have a girl friend.” Link was reclining on her bed while she sat at the vanity, making sure she was presentable.

Link coughed. When he and Zelda made eye contact, he quirked a single eyebrow in an accusatory manner.

At that, Zelda flushed pink and sputtered, “It’s not—I’m—shut up!” She threw a throw pillow at him and he snickered silently. “Come here and braid my hair,” she ordered once her hair was silky enough for her liking.

Link stood behind her, took a few pieces of hair from behind her bangs, and began braiding deftly while she applied a thin layer of rouge to her cheeks. It had been a while since Zelda had let him help her get ready like this; really, there hadn’t been any occasion for her to fuss over her appearance (aside from her birthday, where she was beautified by professionals, not a seventeen-year-old boy). He missed the feeling of her hair under his fingers as he braided over and under and over before pinning it and starting the other side, careful not to disturb the strands framing her face. Out of the blue, she stated, “Honestly, I don’t think marrying Ravio will be that bad.”

Link looked at her through the mirror, and she shrugged. “Sorry, it’s been on my mind recently. I’m so thankful to Hylia that he’s gay as well. Intimacy was one of my biggest fears about the arranged marriage, but now that I know it won’t be an issue... I’m just happy we get new friends,” she confessed sheepishly.

Link nodded before securing the finished braids to the back of her head. If he was being honest, he was excited to become friends with them too. (His social skills were a bit rusty, though.)

He saw her face grow mischievous in the mirror. “Honestly, if anything, you two should be getting married instead of him and I,” she tittered, yelping when Link hit her with the previously thrown pillow. “You’d be cute together, really!” she laughed.

[ _Shut up_ ,] he signed, tugging lightly on her braids. [ _You’re just saying that because we’re both gay and have no other options._ ]

She slapped his hands away from her hair, gave herself one last once-over in the mirror, and turned to face him once she deemed herself presentable. “No, I’m saying it because he’s a shy, frail prince and you’re a strong, stoic knight; it’s practically a fairy tale. Now come on, they should be arriving any minute,” she teased, placing her diamond circlet upon her head and crossing the room to the door.

△

Once Zelda and Hilda left, Ravio and Link were on their own, awkwardly silent for a few beats too long. Link ventured to guess they were both the socially awkward half of their respective pairs.

Today, Ravio was wearing a long purple tunic cinched at the waist with a wide belt over black leggings that were a bit baggy on his thin frame. He still wore the strange scarf, assortment of rings, and a long-sleeved undershirt beneath the tunic despite the heat. Already his pale skin was turning pink, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

[ _Want to spar?_ ] Link signed. He’d been pretty antsy ever since the marriage was announced, and he badly needed to relieve stress the best way he knew how.

Ravio blinked in surprise. “Well, I don’t... I’ve never been trained. Swordfighting isn’t exactly princely,” he replied, playing with one of his long tails of hair and looking askance. “If you want to, though, I’d be content simply watching you. Sometimes Hilda lets me sit in on her practice, and I think it’s fun to observe. Actually, it’d be interesting to see the differences between your techniques.” His excitement grew as he spoke, and he lifted his eyes from the floor to meet Link’s.

Link nodded. Zelda liked to watch Link train, too, on occasion when the weather was nice. The Captain wasn’t around today—it was a Sunday, after all—but he’d practiced alone before. [ _Alright. This way._ ] He led Ravio through the garden to the unofficial sparring “arena” that was in actuality just a large patch of tamped-down dirt lined with hedges he and the Captain used to train. A handful of training dummies were standing on one side, some of them sliced to the point that the hay stuffing was coming out. On a stone bench on the far end laid the discarded training swords and shields from their last session Link had neglected to put away properly. He quickly tied his hair into a low ponytail (he anticipated he would get warm very quickly in the summer humidity) and picked up a sword, gesturing to Ravio to take a seat on the bench while he prepared to spar.

“How long have you been Princess Zelda’s knight, if you don’t mind me asking?” Ravio asked, tugging at his scarf in discomfort but ultimately keeping it on.

Link took the first swing at a dummy, careful to balance his sword in his palm like the Captain had taught him. He cleared his throat, and to his dismay, his voice didn’t come out. He shouldn’t have been surprised; it was an anomaly that he was able to speak to him a couple of days ago. Typically he wouldn’t be able to speak to a new person, especially a person like the prince of Lorule. He made a frustrated rasping sound and swung again, harder than he meant to, and left a gash in the burlap. He turned to face Ravio, and to the best of his ability with a sword in his off hand, signed, [ _Partially mute. Can’t talk right now._ ]

Ravio nodded gently. “Oh, right. I understand.” Relief washed over Link, and he turned back to resume slashing at the dummy, keeping in mind his form (the Captain got on him a lot for form, but he tended to focus on results, not having the perfect wrist position). A pause stretched out between them, and Link heard birds chirping in the bushes. He was always more comfortable in silence anyway. Slash. Sidestep. Parry. Slash. Lunge. The familiar rhythm of battle that always seemed to calm him down. The sun beat down on the exposed tips of his ears and he felt sweat begin to bead on the nape of his neck. Maybe his stuffy undershirt, tunic, leggings, _and_ high boots weren’t the best decision for this humidity.

After a while, Ravio spoke with an audible smirk. “You’re just as good as I thought you were.”

Link shot him a look over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

Ravio had since rolled up his sleeves. “I mean, you fight differently than Hilda, but it’s clear you’re very skilled. Truly impressive. At least, to someone who has never fought before, it seems impressive,” he chuckled nervously. Link noted that Ravio had the tendency to ramble. “Princess Zelda is lucky to have a knight as capable as you. Oh, I hope she and Hilda are getting along all right,” he mumbled, absentmindedly biting a fingernail.

Link simply nodded, jabbing once more with his sword. Parry. Lunge.

“Of course, I have nothing to worry about with regards to Hilda. She’s sure to make quick friends. Quite charismatic when she wants to be, she is. I almost feel she’d make a better princess than I a prince,” he continued, seemingly content to speak while Link listened. He talked more than the last time they met, that’s for sure; maybe it was because he was away from the prying eyes of the kings. “If I’m being completely honest, Sir Link, I’m not particularly experienced in being a prince. I’m sure you’ve already noticed. Lorule, we... don’t really participate in much diplomatic activity. I wish it came as easily to me as it comes to Princess Zelda. Maybe she can teach me once we’re...” he trailed off, his voice beginning to waver. The word _“married”_ hung in the air, pointedly unsaid.

Slash. Sidestep.

“Not to worry! I don’t mean to be so negative. We should be getting to know each other, not complaining!” Ravio announced, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “What are your interests? Hobbies? Er,” he mumbled, catching himself, “I forgot you’re, um. Mute. I guess I’ll just talk, then. Uh, I don’t do very much princely stuff except helping my father with policy when I can. I take care of my pet bird, Sheerow, and try to teach him tricks, but he’s only cooperative occasionally. I’m a collector of various sundries and trinkets, but Hilda tends to call me a hoarder. I sing, and I have vocal lessons once a week as per Father’s orders. I have a bit of magic, but it’s not enough to do more than light a candle. Um... I’m not very interesting, I guess,” he laughed, his anxiety clear in his voice.

Link turned slightly, shook his head, and urged him to go on, returning to his attack on the helpless mannequin. Ravio’s rambling reminded him of when Zelda would rant to him about the frivolities of royal life during his training sessions. Sidestep. Lunge. Jab. Slash. “I read a lot, I suppose. It’s a little embarrassing, but I’ve actually read a lot about Hyrule ever since I was a little kid. I thought it was so cool: a sister kingdom to Lorule in ancient times, but now, led astray... I’ve never been able to visit until now, so it’s kind of been fulfilling my childhood dream.”

That must be why he was so amazed when he first visited those few days ago. Link nodded and decided to take a quick break to catch his breath. He took a seat next to Ravio on the stone bench, wiping the sweat from his brow and breathing deeply. “Do you want me to fetch you some water?” Ravio queried.

Link shook his head. As the sun rose higher in the sky, it was getting hotter than he’d thought, and he smoothly tugged his undershirt and tunic off in one fluid motion. The sweat on his chest instantly cooled as it hit the fresh air. Much better. He felt Ravio tense beside him, and he looked at him in confusion.

“Wow,” he swallowed, “you’ve been through a lot of battles.” As he moved to tuck one of his tails of hair behind his ear, his huge diamond earring glittered in the sun. The crystal-clear gem matched a couple of the jewels on his rings.

Link followed Ravio’s line of sight and looked down at his bare torso. Oh. He’d forgotten how his chest and arms were covered in pale scars from countless battles over the years; no one had ever commented on them before. They were an expected side effect of being the princess’s battle-hardened knight, so nobody in Hyrule gave them a second glance (not that any citizens saw him shirtless often). Link nodded dumbly—how was he supposed to respond to that? “Of course I do?” “What did you expect?” “Most are from when I was young and stupid?” Not that he wasn’t still young or stupid, just marginally less so.

Ravio was staring intently at his arm, and Link stayed stone still. “What happened there?” he asked softly, pointing at a particularly deep gash on his shoulder. Link remembered it acutely: he’d managed to avoid a Lynel’s fire breath while escorting Zelda to the Tower of Hera, but another caught him by the arm from behind with its deadly claws. Zelda had torn off a strip from her dress to fashion a makeshift tourniquet to stop the blood flow until they returned to Hyrule Castle, and Link was legitimately worried it’d get infected and he’d lose his arm. He was immensely proud of Zelda for her quick thinking and cool head.

Link stayed quiet. He wasn’t sure if he quite trusted Ravio enough yet to describe his weaknesses in detail, Zelda’s fiancé be damned. _“You’d be cute together, really!"_ Zelda’s voice rang in his mind. Link bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw the taste of copper, conflicted.

Ravio cast his eyes downward. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

Link stood wordlessly and picked his sword back up, balancing it between his hands before slicing the dummy hard enough to spew stuffing onto the ground.

△

A few days later, Zelda decided to give the visitors her own tour of the castle, starting with her living quarters. “We’ll probably be spending the most time there anyway,” she explained, already tugging at Hilda’s wrist. “My tower’s this way.”

Link saw their point of contact and his eyebrows furrowed. They must’ve had a much better introduction than him and Ravio. Interesting—Hilda didn’t seem the friendly type, despite what Ravio said about her charisma. Speaking of, he and Ravio followed just behind the girls, a solid foot of space between them. To be fair, Link wasn’t physically affectionate at all, even with people he knew very well, like Zelda. He figured Ravio was likely the same way.

His mind kept coming back to Zelda’s statement the first morning. He hadn’t really connected the fact that Ravio was the first boy he met who wasn’t straight either before Zelda connected it for him. It would be truly ironic for him to have an affair with her fiancé, wouldn’t it? She needn’t worry, though. Ravio wasn’t his type. (What was his type, anyway? Link didn’t know. Come to think of it, he’d never had a real crush before.)

After ascending the long staircase, Zelda opened the door to her room grandiosely. “Ta-da!” she announced, flopping down upon her bed. Link sat next to her on the plush comforter once she righted herself.

Ravio looked around the room with the same amazement he had when looking at just about anything in Hyrule. “Wow, Zelda, this is amazing!” he gasped, walking to the window bay and looking down at the courtyard. “The view is incredible,” he sighed dreamily.

Hilda, on the other hand, was observing Zelda’s vanity and running her fingers gingerly along the assorted cosmetics and jewelry that littered its surface. She curiously picked up a gold-plated sphere that Link knew contained Zelda’s most expensive rouge. “That’s my—” Zelda began, but she was interrupted by Hilda undoing the clasp on the front and opening it a bit too abruptly. Blush flew into the air and made her sneeze, and as she rubbed her nose, she inadvertently rubbed the pigment into her skin. She quickly shut the ball again with no evidence of her curiosity aside from a bright red smudge across the bridge of her nose. Zelda began to laugh, while Ravio turned away from the window in confusion, having missed Hilda’s mistake.

“What’s your room like, Ravio?” Zelda asked, shifting the subject for Hilda’s sake.

Ravio took a deep breath and sat on the bay. “A lot messier, and a little smaller. It probably feels smaller than it is because it’s deep in Lorule Castle, so I don’t have any windows like you do,” he mused, playing with the end of his scarf. “I convinced my father to let me keep Sheerow with me, though, so his cage takes up one corner of the room. He’s my pet albino crow,” Ravio said, tacking the last part on as an afterthought.

“Oh, Hilda told me about Sheerow,” said Zelda. “I think it’s pretty cool that you have a pet. Father would never let me,” she muttered. “How’d you convince yours?”

“Yeah, well. Crows are everywhere in Lorule, and I was surprised when I found him, a white crow, injured on the ground a few years ago. He’s a little blind because of the albinism, and my best guess was that he’d accidentally ran into something and hurt his wing. I begged my father to let me keep him, and he eventually acquiesced. It’s hard to say no to a twelve-year-old as cute as I was,” he grinned wolfishly.

At that, Hilda snorted. Ravio shot her a glare and stuck out his tongue.

“That’s wonderful,” Zelda gushed before bringing herself to stand from her bed. “Alright, then. Should we go to the next stop on the tour?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.

△

The next stop on the tour was supposed to be the library, but as they passed the garrison on the way, Zelda stopped. “ _Actually_ ,” she began, her bright blue eyes alight with mischief, “Link’s room is in this building. Should we stop by there, too?”

Link’s eyes narrowed, and he began signing, [ _Zelda, my room isn’t as impress—_ ], but before he could make it through the word [ _impressive_ ], his hands faltered. She was already leading an enthusiastic Hilda and Ravio through the door. He simply sighed and followed them gruffly.

His room was the first room on the first floor as well as the only individual room in the garrison due to his high rank. He’d normally be uncomfortable with the special treatment, but the thought of having to share a bunk with another soldier made his skin crawl. If Link needed anything, it was privacy. (Which was about to be ruined by Zelda’s intrusion. _Great_.)

He closed the door behind them once all four were inside. He wasn’t lying when he said his room was less impressive than Zelda’s. It was probably the same size, but where Zelda’s room was an octagonal shape, his was a rectangle. He had a handful of small windows near the ceiling on one wall, but aside from that, the only light that illuminated the room came from two candle-lit lamps, one on his nightstand and one next to the door. His bed was a twin with drab brown sheets and a flat pillow; a far cry from Zelda’s queen-size luxury. The stone floor and walls had no decoration aside from a banner with the Hyrule crest imprinted on it in gold. The rest of the room’s decor was austere: a wooden nightstand next to the bed, a chest of drawers with an opened first-aid kit on top of it (he’d accidentally sliced his finger during training yesterday), a chair in the corner of the room, messy clothes strewn about the floor, and an armor stand with his decorative armor for use during public appearances hanging on it.

The armor was the closest thing to a decoration aside from the Hyrule banner; the breastplate was adorned with gold filigree, while underneath laid a blue undershirt and mail covering. A large green gem sat in the middle of the chest, and the crown-like headpiece hung off the top of the armor stand. Link had worn it for Zelda’s birthday party, so it had less dust accumulated on it than normal. The room was humid and warm as always since the garrison was built centuries ago without care for ventilation.

Link stood at the door unamusedly while Zelda made herself at home, taking a seat on his bed. Meanwhile, Ravio looked at the Hyrule coat of arms with childlike wonder. “It never stops surprising me that the Hyrule crest is just an upside-down Lorule crest.”

[ _Your crest’s the one that’s upside down,_ ] Link signed, but Ravio didn’t notice.

“This set of armor is beautiful,” Hilda remarked. She must have learned after the blush incident because she kept her hands behind her back this time.

“It is, isn’t it? Link’s old master made it for him,” said Zelda blithely.

Ravio’s ears perked. “Master?” he queried while undoing his scarf and laying it on the chair, and Link was surprised since he’d hadn’t seen him without the scarf before—the heat must be getting to him. He wondered if Lorule was colder than Hyrule, and that’s why he needed the scarf.

Link set his jaw and looked at Zelda. She urged him to talk, and he realized this was probably her plan to get him to open up more. Damn her. [ _Before I was a knight, I was a blacksmith’s apprentice. Kind of, at least. The blacksmith and his wife took me in as an infant, and I grew up with their son, Gulley, as my brother. The blacksmith taught me what he could about smithing, even though I was a child and couldn’t do much._ ]

“How did you end up protecting the princess?” asked Hilda, eyeing the first-aid kit suspiciously.

Zelda chimed in. “He stole one of his master’s swords!”

Link snapped his fingers to shush her. [ _I was borrowing it! I liked to play with it in the woods behind the forge, and the Captain caught me once. I was only eight, but he saw I have the mark of the Triforce on my hand, and he talked to the smith and the king about formally training me. Gulley was sad, but they decided it was for the best to send me to the castle. Zelda’s only a month older than me, so we grew up together, and when I was twelve, her old guard retired. Instead of appointing her another adult knight, the king appointed me. I was young, but I’d been trained well, and we weren’t at war or anything, so,_ ] he reluctantly explained, showing Ravio and Hilda the back of his hand where a faint triangle imprint that matched Zelda’s laid.

“He was a rubbish apprentice, so the blacksmith was glad to get rid of him,” bantered Zelda.

In response, Link shrugged. [ _I tended to sleep in. I was also between the ages of five and eight years old, so I couldn’t really be blamed._ ]

Ravio hummed. “I never would’ve imagined. I saw Link train the other day, and it doesn’t surprise me that he’s been training since a young age, but a blacksmith?”

Link just shrugged again. He was a child, after all. [ _What about you, Hilda?_ ] he asked, grateful for an opportunity to shift the topic of conversation away from himself.

“Oh, I don’t really have...” she began, her voice taut.

Ravio interrupted her, and Link could still feel his eyes on him. “It’s okay, Hilda. If we’re going to get to know each other, it’s important that we’re honest.”

Hilda bit the inside of her cheek for a moment while silence hung in the air. She finally exhaled and began to speak, though her steel gaze fell to the floor. “Ravio and I are half-siblings. We have different mothers; I’m the king’s illegitimate daughter. His mother was noble, while mine was a vagrant. Because of this, King Yuga determined that I’m not eligible to be in line for the throne like Ravio.” She paused, and Link could feel the tension in the room. Judging by the way her voice faltered at the end, it must have been difficult for her to speak about. “I can’t sit back and watch though, it’s not who I am. So I trained and trained, and eventually, King Yuga agreed to let me personally protect Ravio as his knight, and the rest is history, I suppose.”

Zelda stood and placed a reassuring hand on Hilda’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice deafening in the silent room.

Hilda made eye contact with the princess for a tense second before shaking her head. “It’s alright, it’s been years and years since, and I’m not one to hold a grudge.”

“That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” Ravio interjected.

Hilda ignored him. “Where are we going next, Princess?”

Zelda brightened, and Link stepped aside to let her open the door. “The library! We have a huge selection, and the history and science wings are my favorites.”

She continued to prattle as Hilda followed her outside with a faint smile on her face, but before Link could leave, Ravio grabbed his elbow. “I appreciate you telling us your backstory, Link,” he murmured, his emerald eyes boring into Link’s. He was intense.

Link nodded. “You too,” he replied out loud without realizing.

At the sound of his voice, Ravio grinned widely and released his arm from his grip, racing past him to catch up to the girls. Link caught himself smiling, too, as he locked the door to prevent future intrusions.

△

Later that night, Link returned to his room to sleep for the night.

He shucked off his shirt and pants, tossing them onto the floor with the rest of his clothes. Zelda should’ve given him a heads-up about showing the Loruleans his room; he would’ve at least made an effort to clean. In his survey of his dirty clothes, though, he noticed something: the blue-and-black striped scarf that belonged around Prince Ravio’s neck. He picked it up, wondering how it got there, before he remembered that Ravio had taken it off earlier that day.

Ah. He’d have to return it to him the next time he saw him, since he and Hilda were already in their guest rooms on the other side of the castle. It might be a while, though, since he and Zelda were preoccupied most days. He sat down on his bed and held the scarf in his hands. It was exceptionally soft as he manipulated it with his callused digits. He wondered again why Ravio wore it even in summer.

Before he could think, he brought it to his nose and took a deep breath. It smelled like a mixture of floral _—_ jasmine or lavender, maybe _—_ and woody, earthy scents, like the smell of the world after it rains. He’d never smelled anything quite like it. It was... wonderful. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he definitely didn’t expect to like it as much as he did.

Link jerked back to reality and balled it up in his fists, prepared to put it back on the chair and deal with it in the morning, but Zelda’s stupid teasing from a few days ago came back to him. He’d never say it aloud (or sign it, for that matter), but despite what he tried to convince himself, Ravio _was_ cute. Or pretty? Handsome? He wasn’t sure what word to use _—_ he obviously didn’t have any experience with crushes, much less talking about them. Not that he had a crush on Ravio. Maybe… It was too scary to think about, to be honest.

His teeth worried at his bottom lip for a moment before he crawled into bed and wrapped himself in his scratchy blanket, still holding the scarf. It wouldn’t hurt to sleep while holding it, it just smelled good, and it’d remind him to return it when he woke up. He held it to his face again and drifted off to sleep easier than he had in months.

△

Another few days passed.

Link was sparring alone in his hidden area in the courtyard. He hadn’t been able to train with the Captain since King Yuga, Ravio, and Hilda arrived (the entire castle was trying to put on a good show for King Yuga, he supposed) and he needed to release some of his nervous energy.

“Good afternoon, Link! Zelda told me you were out here.”  
Speak of the devil. Link cursed internally, paused his attack on the dummy, and turned to face Ravio. [ _Good afternoon,_ ] he signed, bowing his head. As far as he knew, Ravio was supposed to be with Zelda and the kings today.

Ravio played with one of his tails of hair and walked towards the stone bench. “Talking about the marriage and negotiations was getting boring, so I figured I’d take a break and come say hello,” he said, answering Link’s unasked question.

[ _I found your—_ ] Link began, but Ravio noticed it before he could finish.

“My scarf! I’ve been looking everywhere for this!” he exclaimed, picking it up from where it was folded on the bench and wrapping it around his neck. “Thank you so much, friend!”

Link knew there was no way for him to know that he’d practically snuggled it for the past three nights, but he grew anxious nevertheless and felt the tips of his ears burn red. Each day when we woke up, he realized how creepy he was being, but he seemed to forget by nightfall every time. He turned and slashed the dummy again, feeling sweat bead on his temple that wasn’t from the temperature.

“Mind if I sit for a while?” Ravio continued despite having already sat on the bench. “The weather is so nice today, it’d be a crime to stay indoors. It’s always so cloudy and dreary in Lorule,” he commented.

Link nodded over his shoulder. Slash. Parry. Lunge.

“I don’t think Father will ever be able to drag me back home, if I’m honest.”

Jab. Slash.

“Especially now that I have friends here, too.”

Slash.

Friends?

_“You’d be cute together, really!”_

Link spun on his heel on an impulse. [ _Do you want me to teach you how to swordfight?_ ]

Ravio hesitated. “Really? I have no experience, and I’m not very strong at all—”

“Yes,” rasped Link, gesturing to a spare sword that laid in the dirt by Ravio’s feet. It was the lighter sword of the two, anyway, meant for practicing flourishes; it was perfect for a beginner with less arm and chest strength.

Ravio smiled and stood as fast as possible, tangible excitement dripping from every movement. “Thank you so much! I’ve always wanted to learn, but Father always forbade me and told me to leave it to Hilda, and—” he rambled, picking the sword up with the grip of someone who had never held a sword before. He sure talked a lot once he got comfortable, didn’t he?

Link lunged forward, flicking his sword under Ravio’s at the hilt and flinging it out of his hand, across the patch of dirt, and into the roots of the hedges. Ravio followed the flying sword with his head, and once it landed, he snapped back to look at Link with a certain emotion on his face that he couldn’t quite decode. Ravio undid the belt at his waist, tugged his tunic off of his head while taking care not to disturb the scarf, and walked over to retrieve his sword in his long-sleeved black undershirt and leggings. The undershirt fit him significantly better than his baggy leggings, and Link looked him up and down unashamedly while his back was turned. He was indeed skinny, but he made up for it with his eagerness. “What was that for?” he asked without a trace of anger, running his free hand through his black hair that looked more indigo in the sun. Today he wore an understated pair of dangling emerald earrings that matched his eyes.

“You have to keep your guard up,” Link replied, raising his sword into a battle stance once more. “Like this.” He slid his feet apart and aligned his hips, just like the Captain taught him. Ravio did his best to mimic Link’s movements, although it was painfully apparent this was his first time doing this. “One hand at the hilt, one at the pommel. Keep your grip tight, but loosen your wrists,” he instructed, and Ravio did as he was told, watching his own clunky movements. “Angle your hips towards me. Open your stance.”

After thirty minutes of training from Link, he felt that Ravio was on his way to becoming a swordsman. Of course, his attacks (if they could be considered that) were weak and his parries were weaker, but he picked up the basics quickly, and with a few more lessons, Link reckoned he would be able to defend himself against, say, a wild Tektite or Keese if he had to. Both he and Ravio were tired, though, so he sat at the base of the stone bench and leaned back against the seat, taking a swig from his waterskin. Ravio followed him, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat from his forehead. Link wordlessly offered him water, and he gratefully accepted, taking a few long gulps before breaking to breathe.

“You did better than I expected,” Link muttered. He was shocked his voice was working today; it was probably the most he’d used it in years.

Ravio beamed and handed the skin back to him. “Don’t feed my ego, Link.” He took a deep breath and leaned his head back to look at the sky while using one hand to loosen his scarf. “It’s far too hot out for this.”

Link nodded his head in agreement and reached behind him to shed his shirt in an attempt to cool off faster. Once it was off, he stared at Ravio’s still-moving hand. “Why do you always wear that?” he wondered aloud, half hoping Ravio wouldn’t hear him.

Ravio stiffened the tiniest amount. A tense moment passed, and he slowly continued unwrapping the scarf from his neck and turned away from Link. Link opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, but before he could, the scarf fell from his neck and Ravio lifted his long hair out of the way.

Link inhaled sharply. Across the back of his neck was a scar that looked like a lightning bolt, with jagged branches winding their way up to his hairline and underneath his shirt towards his shoulder blades. The edges of the scar barely tickled the sides of his neck, and the pale scar was hard to see on already-pale skin; that must’ve been why Link couldn’t see it while Ravio was scarf-free in his room the other day. Link wasn’t sure what to do, so he placed a hand on Ravio’s shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way.

He recognized it: it was a magic scar.

Ravio turned back around and lowered his hair, obstructing it from view once more and opting to fidget with his rings instead. “It was my father,” he said. “I disobeyed him as a kid. I didn’t want to be prince, you know. Hilda was... _is_ a better fit for royalty than I am. He, um, didn’t take it well. It’s not very pretty, is it?” he chuckled mirthlessly. Link had never heard his tone so sad, his cocky demeanor from minutes ago gone in an instant as he talked about his father.

He didn’t move his hand from Ravio’s shoulder, even as the silence between them spread like the summer humidity.

Finally, Link pointed to a scar on his left forearm and cleared his throat. “This was from a Hinox when I was eleven. It had made itself at home in a patch of Silent Princesses, Zelda’s favorite flower. I thought I could sneak past it while it was sleeping to pick a few flowers. I couldn’t.”

Ravio looked at him curiously.

He pointed to a scar across his left breast. “Bari shocked me when I was fourteen. It laid one of its tentacles on me while I was fighting another and shocked the living hell out of me.” He pointed to another on his stomach, a long, white surgery scar. “Octorok, fifteen. It was harassing Zelda. I was trying to charge it, but it shot a half-formed rock at me at point-blank range in defense. A sharp piece got stuck in my abdomen, and I had to have surgery. Seventeen stitches and two weeks of bedrest.”

Ravio inhaled sharply through gritted teeth in sympathy. He shot Link a look before analyzing his chest again, inching closer and reaching out with his hands. His cold fingers burned where they touched Link’s skin, even though they were incredibly gentle. He traced a scar just below his collarbone with one hand, his fingertips soft in stark contrast to Link’s rough, hardened ones. He must’ve not had to do any physical work, which made sense considering his royal status. “What about this one?” he whispered, eyes fixed.

Link blushed. Not all of them had heroic stories. “I was seven. I had just gotten a glass of Moo Moo milk when Gulley popped out of nowhere and distracted me. I tripped and fell, the glass shattered, and one piece got stuck in my chest. We didn’t go to the doctor, even though we probably should have,” he confessed, placing his palms on the dirt behind him and leaning back to give Ravio a better view. “I probably wouldn’t have a scar if we did.”

At that, Ravio burst into laughter, and Link couldn’t help but crack a smile. He was glad to hear that sound. “Impressive, Mr. Hero,” Ravio chuckled, his voice light and teasing.

“Mr. Hero?”

He shrugged. “Lots of your scars are from protecting Zelda, aren’t they? You seem pretty heroic to me, at least.”

Link was sure he flushed deeper pink, and his entire body grew heated, even where Ravio touched him with icy digits. “Thanks,” he barely eked out, his voice threatening to give up on him. They continued like that for a while, Ravio touching one of Link’s scars and Link giving him the explanation, over and over until almost all his scars were mapped. He felt laid bare, even moreso than when he explained his history to him and Hilda, as the sun descended in the sky.

After Ravio seemed to be satisfied, Link cleared his throat and piped up. “Want to go inside? It’s almost dinnertime.”

Ravio jumped up and brushed the dirt from his pants. “Of course! You Hyruleans make great curry.” He walked over to where his tunic, belt, and scarf laid abandoned and quickly redressed. Link did the same, cringing at the feeling of his sweat-soaked undershirt on dry skin, and decided he’d shower before dinner. He wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, already feeling haunted by the ghost of Ravio’s hands on his bare chest. He typically abhorred physical contact outside of fighting, and he would rarely let even Zelda touch him; what was wrong with him? He shook his head free of thoughts and followed Ravio through the hedges, watching the back of his scarf intently, picturing the lightning stigmata that laid under the fabric.

He’d never forgive King Yuga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next week!


	3. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, not gonna lie, this chapter got away from me a little bit. (It's about twice as long as the first chapter, oops.) But here it is! Enjoy!

The afternoon was slow today. Ravio and Hilda were busy with King Yuga, and swordfighting alone with dummies was getting old without Ravio’s colorful commentary. Even the birds sat lazily in the trees, and the buzz of the cicadas seemed less energetic than normal. Everything was boring to Link.

So he found himself climbing the stairs of Princess Zelda’s tower to try and stave off the boredom. He wasn’t even sure if she was in her room or not, but it was worth a shot. When he finally reached the door, he held a fist up to knock but paused. His pointed ears strained to hear... a sniffle? Link knocked, and Zelda shouted, “Leave me alone!”

He opened the door anyway. Zelda was on her bed, curled up in a ball. Her eyes and nose were stained red from tears, and she angrily wiped at them once she saw the door open. “I said—oh. It’s only you.”

Link nodded, and she scooted over the smallest bit on her bed. He sat next to her, unsure of what to do. [ _Is it about the wedding?_ ] he signed.

She shook her head no and hiccupped. “Do you trust King Yuga? In your gut?” she asked, her voice nasally.

Link bit his lip and remembered the scar on Ravio’s neck that made his blood boil. He shook his head. [ _I don’t, no. Why?_ ]

“It’s Father. I—I told him I don’t trust Yuga, but he just thinks I’m trying to get out of the stupid marriage,” she sobbed, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “I c-can’t blame him, I guess, but it’s insulting. I’m not just a whiny teenager, I’m only thi-thinking for the good of Hyrule.”

Link pressed his lips together. It wasn’t like King Rhoam to disregard her opinion like that, especially about matters as serious as this.

“I’m at a loss for what to do. Hilda told me... she told me that Lorule is overrun with criminals. That it’s hell on Earth. How can we trust the man in charge of ensuring its prosperity?”

Link couldn’t respond. Instead, he put a hand on hers reassuringly and let her cry onto his shoulder.

△

Link lunged at Ravio. He attempted to jump away just a second too late, and the dull blade caught his shirt. Had the blade been sharp, it would’ve ripped it wide open, but it only made him stumble a bit. Ravio laughed and put his hands up. “Alright, you got me. Link thirteen, Ravio two. I’m beginning to think this is a little unbalanced.”

Link smirked while he and Ravio took a second to breathe before their next match. He was trying to go easy on him, but Hylia, he had more weak spots than Link had scars (which is to say, a _lot_ ). [ _Ready?_ ] he signed with his free hand.

Ravio nodded, wiping the sweat from his brow and resuming his (albeit awkward) stance. “Always.”

Link easily deflected Ravio’s initial attack and parried, throwing him back a few steps. Ravio made a noise of frustration and switched to a defensive position. Good, thought Link, he may be finally learning something. Since he wasn’t focused on a perfect performance, Link let his mind wander. Ravio had taken his advice and tied his hair in a low ponytail, and his midnight-colored hair shone in the morning sun. His face was flushed with the physical activity, but his stamina had improved greatly since they first began training, and his breathing was notably less labored than a few weeks ago. Today, Ravio was wearing a loose violet blouse with the first few buttons undone tucked into black leggings along with his signature scarf and a pair of knee-high boots. The ends of his scarf were thrown behind him as to not interfere with sparring, but they hung between Ravio’s legs, and Link was sure he’d trip.

Out of nowhere, Ravio blurted, “You must be a total heartthrob.”

Link made a face and slashed his sword. Ravio attempted to parry despite his still-weak arm muscles, and to reward his effort, Link pretended he executed it perfectly and fell back.

“I mean, you’re far from ugly, and you’re the princess’s knight, Mr. Hero! I bet you’re fighting girls off left and right,” Ravio continued, using that nickname he was apparently fond of. “They like the strong and silent type, you know.”

Link shrugged and sidestepped Ravio’s pathetic attempt at a jab.

Ravio suddenly stopped in his tracks, lowering his sword to his side. “Oh Lolia, I understand now. You poor soul,” he said, sounding as if he just had a revelation.

Link froze as well. _Shit. Does he know? Know what? That I slept with his scarf? That I may or may not have a crush on him? That Zelda and I hate his dad?_

“You like Princess Zelda, don’t you?”

Silence. Then, Link burst out laughing so loudly the birds in the trees flew away. Link’s laugh was typically silent, but this was an exception; it was uproarious, deafening, and Ravio seemed perturbed.

“I understand, Link! She’s very pretty. I’m sure if I liked women, I’d be head over heels by now. It must be so hard liking her, since she’s—y’know—and with the wedding coming up—” he prattled while Link laughed.

Link interrupted him. “I’m not into women either, Ravio,” he wheezed, fighting off giggles.

Ravio looked at him blankly for a second.

“Ravio, I’m _gay,_ ” he reiterated.

“O-Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Ravio stood there, processing the new information. While he was distracted, Link ran forward and put his sword to his throat, pressing his chest to Ravio’s. Checkmate. He couldn’t tell if the tension between them was amplified by Ravio’s newfound knowledge or by the way he couldn’t pry his eyes away from Ravio’s ajar lips. “Link fourteen, Ravio two,” he murmured.

△

Link ventured into the bathhouse and the steam hit his face instantly. King Rhoam had asked him to fetch Zelda and said she was in the bath last he’d heard, so here he was, entering the bath cautiously. He didn’t need to cover his eyes—not just because they were both gay, but they’d grown up together, and it’s nothing he hadn’t seen before—but he was still wary of her privacy.

“Zelda?” he called, sliding open the door.

The bathing room was beautiful, and he’d sneaked in to take baths there before. The floors were stone with marble accents, while the bath itself was entirely made of marble. The room was long and rectangular, and the only fixture in it was the huge bath in the center filled with hot water from a nearby spring. The windows had thin curtains over them that let in plenty of sunlight while protecting the princess from peeping toms, while two tall cabinets filled with towels flanked the entrance. It was probably the only part of royal life Link was jealous of.

To his surprise, though, Zelda wasn’t sitting in the bath; Ravio was. He had been facing away from the door, but when Link called, he turned to face him. Due to the way his wet, jet black hair was slicked down, his ears poked out and his eyes appeared larger than normal. He made a noise of surprise and sunk deeper in the bath so only his nose and eyes were visible. “What’re you doing?!” he yelped.

Link scoffed and looked away. [ _I’m not peeping. I’m looking for Zelda; Rhoam said she was in here_.]

Ravio hesitantly lifted himself back out of the water up to his collarbones and leaned on the edge of the bath. “She was, about an hour ago. I ran into her on my way here. I wanted to try it out, when in Rome and all,” he said, his voice getting quieter as he went on.

Link nodded and opened the door again. [ _Alright. Sorry_ ,] he signed, more than ready to leave and stop blushing uncontrollably.

“No!” Ravio exclaimed, and Link heard a splashing sound behind him. “You don’t have to go!” He didn’t have the willpower to turn around fully, but he looked over his shoulder and saw Ravio had lifted himself almost out of the water; his hands were on the lip of the bath and his arms held himself up, his body out of the water down to his hipbones. Link felt his ears light ablaze, and he tried (to no avail) to get his mind out of the gutter.

“I want someone to talk to, it’s awfully boring on my own,” Ravio continued, sinking back into the bath.

Once Link collected himself, he turned around and walked a bit closer to the bath. He could stay for a little while longer. Thankfully, a thick layer of suds covered the water, so he didn’t have to worry about accidentally looking where he shouldn’t be. He sat down and crossed his legs near where Ravio rested, back as straight as a pin.

“Thank you,” said Ravio. Now that he was up close, Link could take him in. Hylia, he _was_ skinny; his collarbones protruded unnaturally, and if he looked hard enough, he could see the thin lines that denoted his first couple of ribs. Other than that, his skin was free from blemishes aside from a few isolated freckles across his chest and the scar on his neck. He had turned a light pink from the hot water, which was oddly endearing to Link.

After a moment, Ravio squirmed in the water and covered his chest with his hands. “Jeez, don’t look at me like that,” he said, looking askance.

With that, Link was pretty sure he self-combusted, his face burning and his fingers twitching anxiously. [ _Sorry_ ,] he signed with a shaking hand. The last thing he wanted was to come across as a creep.

Ravio laughed. “I’m joking, Mr. Hero. Look all you want. I’ve seen you shirtless so many times, the least I could do is return the favor.”

Ravio was trying to kill him, Link decided. It was the only explanation for this.

Before Link could say anything (what could he even say to that?) Ravio made a noise of understanding and turned around. “I guess what you really wanna see is this, huh?” He pulled his wet hair out of the way and Link observed his scar in its full glory for the first time.

It went down farther than he’d expected, almost to his last pair of ribs, and Ravio’s rosy tint only highlighted the bright white scar tissue. It was branching, forking, like tree roots or lightning, unlike any of Link’s scars. Link really, _really_ wanted to touch it and feel its texture—were magic scars the same as regular scars? Link was lucky enough to not have any magic scars to compare it to.

“Gross, right?” Ravio teased.

Link shook his head earnestly. He didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t _gross_ ; it was cool, astonishing, a symbol of his strength, depressing, hypnotizing. Before he realized, he was touching it and running his hands down each of the branches gingerly, as if he’d shatter like porcelain if he pressed too hard. His flesh was damp and pliant, and Link dared not follow that line of thought.

“There should be a comb somewhere over there. I was combing my hair before you arrived, but if you want to make yourself useful, you can finish the job,” Ravio said, and Link instantly picked up the comb that laid near his foot and held a piece of Ravio’s hair.

Ravio’s hair was ridiculously thick and fell a few inches past his shoulders, and if Link was being honest, he’d wanted to run his hands through his hair since he first met him. He worked the comb through his hair gently, starting at the ends and working his way up as Zelda had taught him over the years. Compared to brushing Zelda’s hair that reached her waist, Ravio’s was easy, but that didn’t stop him from taking his time.

While he combed, Ravio talked. The topic of conversation (or, really, monologue) flitted from idea to idea, from hair to dinner to the butterfly Ravio saw that morning, from his favorite season (spring) to his favorite animal (rabbit) to his least favorite color (orange).

Once Ravio stopped for a few seconds, Link murmured, “You talk a lot.”

“Compared to you, _everyone_ talks a lot,” he retorted. Link dragged the comb through the same section of untangled hair again and again.

Link hummed. “True. But I meant in comparison to when I first saw you, with King Yuga. You were so shy in the beginning.”  
Ravio shrugged under Link’s hands. “I guess I was. This is really my first time… I don’t know, having friends out of Father’s line of sight? I can kind of breathe out now. Let go of the breath I’m always holding, y’know?”

“I’m glad.”

“Yeah. I am too. I never thought of it that way before, but after seeing how Zelda and King Rhoam act, I wish we had a better relationship.” When Link stayed silent, he sighed the world-weary sigh of someone much older than eighteen. “There used to be a town like Kakariko Village in Lorule, you know. A quaint little farm town. Long before I was born, though, through Father’s incompetence, a gang of thieves overran the small village. He’d been warned about it from the townsfolk, but he did nothing. Now it’s called Thieves’ Town, and the people who live there are the descendants of the original band of thieves. There were many villages like it, actually, and many came to the same fate. All due to my father.”  
Link didn’t know how to reply, so he didn’t.

“Lorule Lake is so polluted, all the wildlife abandoned it decades ago. King Yuga refused to issue a cleanup order. One year, Death Mountain had a wild blizzard that buried anyone unfortunate enough to live on it. King Yuga never bothered to send a rescue party, and now the mountain is so overrun with Keeleons and Pengators, it’s a deathwish to try and climb it.”

Link stopped combing. Ravio had tensed his shoulders so much they’d risen almost to his ears.

When Ravio noticed that Link had stopped, though, he exhaled and sank deep into the water, submersing himself up to his eyes. Link’s eyes widened—he’d just undone all his hard work untangling!—but he figured Ravio needed to cool down for a moment, so he let him. When he came back up to breathe, he faced Link and his eyes were full of dejection. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bitch.”

“You weren’t bitching,” Link whispered.

Ravio brought his elbows up to rest on the rim of the bath and rested his chin on his forearms. “You must think terribly of K—my father now. I promise, he’s not that bad.”

Link leaned back and observed Ravio’s deep-in-thought face. “You don’t have to defend him. Not with me. Not ever.”

Ravio fell silent.

“Link?” came a voice from the entrance.

Link whipped around to see Hilda at the door to the bathhouse. [ _Yes?_ ]

She rolled her eyes. “Really? King Rhoam has been looking for you. He said he sent you to get Zelda two and a half hours ago and you never came back.”

_Fuck._

△

Link looked out over the moat, observing the moonlight that reflected and danced off of it. The summer night was cool and damp, and the fireflies were out. One landed on his outstretched hand, and he held it in his palms for a moment before letting it go, watching it as it flied off. Summer was his favorite time of year, and not just because his birthday was in the middle of it. He’d decided to talk a walk tonight—he couldn’t sleep and the weather was pleasant, so he figured he could go for a nice long walk to clear his head. He’d ended up stopping at the moat, though, and listening to the water lap at the shore repeatedly. He could listen to that sound all day—it was what he imagined a beach to sound like, but there were no beaches in Hyrule to confirm or deny his suspicion. Maybe there was one in Lorule. He’d never seen a map of it.

“Good evening, Mr. Hero.”

He heard the footsteps of Ravio approaching him with his hands tucked in the pockets of his coat and his scarf tied tight around his throat. Come to think of it, it was a bit chilly for Link to be wearing his nightclothes, but he didn’t mind. “Ditto,” he rasped, his voice rough after a few days of no use. These days, however, he was lucky, and his voice always seemed to come to him when speaking with Ravio. Maybe he was finally comfortable enough with him, but it took years with Princess Zelda; it’d be a miracle if that happened in less than a month. “What brings you here?”

Ravio stood next to Link. “It’s your birthday tomorrow.” It wasn’t a question, but it wasn’t a statement, either.

Link didn’t look at him. “Yes, I guess it is.”

Ravio watched the moon. “It’s past midnight already, isn’t it?” When Link didn’t respond, he said quietly, “Happy birthday, Link.”

Link’s head fell to look at their feet. Ravio had on boots, while Link wore only socks. “Thank you.”

They sat and looked at the water for a few seconds, or minutes, or hours, Link couldn’t tell. It felt like an eternity and no time all at once, with no speech to gauge how much time had passed, and Link wasn’t quite sure where the moon hung in the sky when Ravio arrived.

Finally, Ravio broke the comfortable silence. “Do you get lonely?”

“...Lonely?” croaked Link.

“Yes. Not just... you know, romantically, but being the princess’s knight. You aren’t allowed relationships with civilians, right?”

“Right.”

“Isn’t it lonely?”

Link thought for a minute before replying, half positive he was dreaming. “Sometimes. I miss Gulley. He really was like my brother... I wonder how he’s doing. He must be turning eighteen soon, too, I guess. He was only a few months younger than me.” He hadn’t thought of Gulley in a long time—he hadn’t had a reason to—but now, thinking of his face when the blacksmith announced Link was going away... he felt almost guilty. Maybe he was gearing to take over the family business.

Ravio nodded imperceptibly. “That must be difficult. I can’t imagine a life without Hilda.” Despite his low volume, his voice carried over the moat, reverberating ethereally.

Link hummed.

“I’m not allowed relationships either, not that I’d really want to. To be honest, most of Lorule’s citizens are... well, they’re assholes,” Ravio spat.

At the unexpected profanity, Link let out a surprised laugh.

“I’m serious! It’s like I said in the bath; Lorule was supposedly a prosperous kingdom centuries ago, just like Hyrule, but now it’s a mess. There’s more moblins than citizens. The few cities that are left have fallen into disarray, having been looted by thieves, squatted in, then left to rot. People are suffering, and yet my father turns a blind eye,” Ravio ranted, his voice grown passionate with a strength Link had never heard from him. Even when he talked in the bathhouse, his voice was more remorseful than angry.

As his voice grew louder, it echoed more, and it almost sounded as if he was possessed by a spirit. It highlighted the lilting accent of his voice, which Link was never able to place; it must be a Lorule accent, but he hadn’t ever heard another Lorulean outside of his immediate family to compare it to. It was almost lyrical, to an extent. Link could listen to him talk all day (and he sometimes did, when the prince had a lot to say).

Link turned to look at him, and Ravio didn’t do the same. He was almost thankful that he didn’t.

“I’ve seen horrible things, Link,” he whispered, and Link saw the way his mouth twitched as he said it. “I’m powerless. There’s nothing I wish more than to fix my homeland, but it seems impossible.” Ravio’s ringless fingers worried at the nape of his neck underneath his scarf, and Link knew exactly what he was touching, exactly what happened when Ravio protested against his father. He remembered his conversation with Zelda about Lorule’s injustices. He made a silent vow to never let Ravio feel powerless ever again.

For now, though, Link wrapped an arm around Ravio’s shoulders and brought him into a half-hug to face the moat by his side. Ravio gladly accepted the contact, resting his head on Link’s shoulder and sighing shakily. He’d known him for a fraction of the time he knew Zelda, but he hoped he could decode his body language; that he was going to protect him, no matter what; that he was by his side til the end; that he wouldn’t allow Yuga to lay another finger on him; that Link would do anything to restore his kingdom to its former glory. He was a knight, after all—that was his duty. Ravio was cold, but he warmed Link to the core as he nestled his nose into his shoulder and breathed deeply. “Thank you for listening to me complain, even though it’s your birthday,” he laughed mirthlessly.

Link gripped him tighter and watched the fireflies.

△

When Link stumbled out of his room in the morning to get breakfast, he was surprised by Zelda blocking the way to the dining hall. “Happy birthday, Link!” she cried, waving her arms like a lunatic (or a crazy princess). “Now we’re both eighteen!” she grinned, ruffling his already-messy hair affectionately. “How does it feel?”

[ _Hungry,_ ] he signed sardonically, gently pushing her out of the way to enter the hall.

Zelda puffed her cheeks petulantly and followed him.

△

He celebrated his birthday by finally convincing the Captain to take his attention away from wedding preparations and train with him. Sparring with a real partner was far more engaging than a mannequin, even without Ravio to keep him company. It was an absolute blast—since he’d begged him for so long, the Captain was riding him especially hard, nitpicking every last flaw in his performance. While it was frustrating, knowing he was getting better and better was immensely gratifying, and Link had missed the feeling. He’d worried that going easy while training Ravio was making him rusty, but that seemingly wasn’t the case.

Ravio. Even though he’d been itching to train for weeks, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander as he let his body take control. He seemed to spend most of his time thinking about Ravio these days. How could he think about anything else? Zelda kept teasing him, saying he and Ravio should be the ones in a relationship, and while Link rolled his eyes every time, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Just... imagining it. What kind of a boyfriend would Ravio even be? He was self-aggrandizing, cheeky prick. He reveled in making Link frustrated. He was infuriating at times. But he was also capable of surprising vulnerability, like the night before at the moat, and he had gone through his fair share of struggles. Would his behavior change in a relationship? It would have to be secret, hidden behind his marriage to Zelda... Ravio didn’t seem the type to be secretive; he seemed like he’d love public displays of affection, the dramatic bastard he was.

The thought of being affectionate with Ravio made his face burn, and the Captain managed to disarm him due to his wildly distracted state. Link scoffed and picked up his sword, shaking the troublesome thoughts from his mind and resuming training.

When Link finally collapsed onto the stone bench, chugging from his waterskin as if he were hiking Death Mountain, the Captain sat beside him and polished his sword. Once he felt sufficiently hydrated, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees to catch his breath and slow his heartrate. Without the fighting to take his mind off of it, he quickly thought back to Ravio. _Stupid Ravio._ Hesitantly, he signed, [ _I have a question, Captain._ ]

“I have an answer,” he replied, flipping the blade over and buffing out the new scratches. Link wasn’t as close to the Captain as he was to, say, Zelda, but he spent a lot of time with him and valued his advice.

[ _There’s someone in my life I really care about,_ ] he began hesitantly, making sure he wasn’t being too detailed, [ _but I don’t know how to tell them._ ]

The Captain hummed a tune that Link recognized as one of the Hyrule march cadences. “I’m sure you’ve heard this before, Link, but actions speak louder than words.” He held the sword in front of him and seemed satisfied when the sunlight reflected off of it perfectly.

Link looked back down at the dirt at his feet. He couldn’t tell how exactly he was going to implement this advice, but it did make him feel better. [ _Thanks_.]

“No problem. I’m glad I could help,” the Captain replied, standing with a _hup!_ and holding his hand out to Link to help him stand, too. “That’s enough training for today. Go clean yourself up, now.”

Link nodded and started making his way back to the garrison, feeling as if a weight was lifted.

△

His eighteenth was already going better than Zelda’s—as far as he aware, he wasn’t about to be married off to a foreign prince (if Ravio heard him say that, he’d probably feign offense.)

Once he returned to the dining hall for dinner, he was greeted by a cake on the center table, along with King Rhoam, King Yuga, Ravio, Hilda, and, of course, Zelda. At his entrance, Zelda and Ravio threw handfuls of confetti. “Happy birthday!” they greeted, and Link wondered how long they’d been waiting for him to show up.

“Happy birthday, Link,” began King Rhoam, approaching Link to pat his head paternally like Zelda had before. “I’m beyond proud of the adults you and Zelda have become.” He glowed under the praise.

“Yes, happy birthday, Sir Link!” King Yuga tacked on, and Link’s smile faded quickly. He hadn’t seen Yuga in a couple of weeks; now, when he looked at his painted face, all he could think of was the magic scar on Ravio’s neck. Link didn’t hate many people, but he hated Yuga. Link simply ignored him and turned to the cake, retrieving a heaping slice for himself and digging in earnestly—training had left him starving.

After the cake was finished, he retired to his room with his friends to truly celebrate away from the prying eyes of the kings. He reclined on his bed while Zelda sat at the foot, Ravio took the empty chair in the corner of the room, and Hilda leaned against his chest of drawers. Zelda had managed to smuggle in a small waterskin of the wine from the castle vineyard and was passing it around the room, and while it wasn’t enough to get even lightweight Link drunk, it was enough to give him a nice buzz. The energy was much less tense with just them four, and he was thankful to end his birthday on a high note. He’d zoned out to the sound of his friends talking merrily about everything and nothing at all, about the wedding, about Ravio’s swordfighting training, about the weather in Lorule, about the Zora, but when he tuned back in, Ravio and Zelda were talking about King Yuga, and their tone was a little more serious than he’d last heard. Hilda was gone—bathroom, maybe?—and the conversation had turned a bit hushed.

“You say he’s threatened you, has he ever...” Zelda began, and she thought for a moment about how to end the sentence gracefully.

Ravio silently stood, approached the bed, turned around, pulled his scarf away, and held his hair up to reveal his scar. “Don’t tell Hilda,” he murmured in response to her gasp.

“He did this to you?” she asked, her voice laden with a mixture of sadness, surprise, and anger. Link watched as she reached a hand out to touch it.

Before she could, Ravio nodded, lowering his hair and fixing his scarf. “I was ten.” He took his seat, this time bringing his knees to his chest and looking at the floor with far-away eyes.

Zelda was visibly fuming by this point. “I’m going to _kill—_ ” she began, but was cut off by Hilda reentering the room and cleared her throat. “Welcome back, Hilda,” she greeted, leaning back against the bedpost and burying any hint of fury in her voice. Link always admired that about Zelda; she was exceedingly good at pretending to be happy, while Link was only able to barely conjure a facade of neutrality.

Hilda nodded her head once in response—despite being Zelda’s friend, she had the same issue Link had of knightly instincts overriding friendly instincts. In the quiet, Link heard the pitter-patter of rain outside; it must have started sprinkling after they retreated to his room in the barracks.

After a beat passed, the silence was broken. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about staging a coup,” Ravio chuckled, fingering the end of his scarf in one of his nervous tics Link had learned to identify.

“Against Father?” Hilda rolled her eyes and took a swig from the skin she had left on the nightstand. “Even if he is an asshole sometimes, you’re too young to take the throne anyway.”

Ravio scrunched his nose at her and swiped it from her hands. “You’re younger than me. And Link, too, for that matter. You’re still seventeen for three more months.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled.  
Ravio gasped dramatically. “I am your _prince_! The disrespect—”

“We should do it,” Zelda interrupted.

“Huh?” Ravio mumbled, passing the skin to her.

“Stage a coup. We can do it on the wedding day,” she thought aloud, her voice growing with excitement every moment and gesturing with the skin.

Hilda groaned and held her forehead in her palm. “I leave for two minutes, and you two are planning a coup d’etat,” she moaned. “You must be wine drunk.”

“The wedding day is perfect!” Ravio bounced in his seat, ignoring his knight.

[ _Can we not plan a coup on my birthday? I’m too tired for this,_ ] Link signed begrudgingly—he was exhausted after a long day of training, after all.

Ravio covered his mouth with his hand to chuckle. “Fine, you’re right. It’s getting late. We can plan our secret operation later.” He stood from the chair and stretched. “Hilda and Zelda, you two go on ahead.”

“The rain is getting heavier. You should come now before it starts to pour.” Hilda shot him a confused look, and he gestured for her to leave with his hand. Zelda complied easier, though, and dragged Hilda out by her hand, gently closing the door behind her.

Once it was just Ravio and Link in the room, Ravio’s beaming smile fell into a more neutral expression and he moved to sit at the foot of Link’s bed where Zelda sat before. “Sorry for keeping you up late,” Ravio apologized, scratching at the back of his neck.

“It’s alright,” Link muttered, sitting up to face him instead of lying on his back like he was. “What’s wrong?”

Ravio shook his head fervently. “Nothing! Nothing’s wrong. I just...” he trailed off, fishing around in his coat’s pocket before pulling out a small box, “...have a gift.” His voice was small and timid, reminding Link of first-week Ravio instead of the loud and sometimes obnoxious Ravio he knew now.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Link said as he took the box into his own hands gingerly. It was black with an ornate purple ribbon with little Rupee designs on it—very Lorulean. He was hesitant to ruin the delicate packaging.

“I wanted to,” Ravio stated matter-of-factly, nodding his head to urge Link to open it. “Go ahead.”

Link pulled the ribbon, unraveling the perfect bow, and lifted the box’s lid carefully. Inside the box laid a bracelet plated with gold on a bed of crushed velvet. In the middle of the bracelet, a large, dark purple gem caught the eye and lead it along the golden detailing that surrounded it. It looked almost like the amethyst eye of a dragon, with two golden eyelids holding it open. The craftsmanship was unlike anything Link had ever seen from a Hyrulean blacksmith, and he gazed upon it with wonder. It was absolutely _breathtaking_.

“I had a Lorulean blacksmith make it once Zelda told me your birthday was at the end of this month. I made it specially so that I could...” Ravio began, then plucked the bracelet from Link’s hands and placed a hand on the gem. “...imbue some of my magic into it,” he stated, and as his fingers touched the jewel, it glowed a bright fuchsia purple. Link’s eyes widened in surprise. “It’s not a whole lot, and my magic isn’t strong to begin with, but I thought it might come in handy to prevent a few scars,” he finished sheepishly, handing it back to Link.

Link tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. He decided to give Ravio a hug instead (he’d given more hugs the past month than the rest of his life combined), and he hugged him back just as tightly. “I’m glad you like it,” Ravio exhaled into the air behind Link. “It’s the least I could do, after all of your support.”

Once they separated, Link slid the bracelet onto his wrist and watched the purple light pulse slowly. It was the most wondrous thing he’d ever seen. He couldn’t even begin to thank Ravio enough.

“That’s, um, not all I wanted to talk to you about, though.”

Link looked back up at him and was surprised to find his dark eyebrows furrowed and his stance stiff and tense. “I have something else I need to tell you, and it’s _totally okay_ if you’re uncomfortable, I just need to get this off my chest,” Ravio rambled, and the anxiety in his tone reminded him of the first day they met when he came out to him and Princess Zelda. Link would’ve hoped they’d grown closer since then, though, so he was at a loss for what this mysterious confession could be. He nodded in a hopefully encouraging manner.

“I... _fuck_ ,” he began, refusing to look him in the eyes. “I’m into you. I like you. More than like you, actually.”

Link blinked dumbly.

A moment of silence. Hilda was right; the rain outside was picking up, and he could hear it beating against the stone exterior.

Ravio’s eyes began to well up, and he looked away. “You know what, forget I said anything, I’m sorry to do this on your birth—”

_“Actions speak louder than words.”_ Link knew his words would fail him if he tried to speak, so before he could finish, he pulled him in by the back of the neck and kissed him.

He had no prior experience in the matter, but he suspected Ravio didn’t either, and that made him feel a little more confident. He was operating completely under adrenaline, and he had no idea what he was doing other than instinct. He could feel the fabric of the scarf under his hand and the weight of Ravio against his mouth, but it didn’t register as real until he pulled back and opened his eyes (when had he shut them?) to take in Ravio’s shocked expression, his lips hung open and his pale skin burnt to a dark red. Holy shit, he just kissed Prince Ravio. The princess’s fiancé.

Ravio was even more dumbfounded than Link. “...You?” he exhaled, and it was somehow a question.

Link nodded.

Ravio kissed him, holding Link’s face with both hands enthusiastically and practically climbing into his lap. Link decided he enjoyed kissing, or maybe he just enjoyed kissing Ravio; despite the shock and the lack of experience, everything felt so _right_. Ravio’s bitten lips against his felt so _right_ , his icy hands on his cheeks felt so _right_ , his weight pushing on top of him felt _right_ , everything felt _right_ and perfect and maybe it was the buzz from the wine, but he felt like he was floating. The scent of his scarf had nothing on the prince himself, the close proximity forcing Link to breathe him in again and again. When they parted, Link would tuck Ravio’s hair behind his pointed ear, or drink in his expression, or place a hand on his hip, and Ravio would instantly fall back into him, over and over and over until he was dizzy with it.

Maybe he _did_ have a crush on Ravio. Zelda would have a _fit_.

After a while, Ravio fell back to simply cradle Link’s jaw in his palm, and his hands weren’t as cold as they used to be. Link watched Ravio’s eyes move as he dragged his gaze along his features. He wondered if Ravio liked looking at him half as much as he liked looking at Ravio, especially now when his face was dusted with pink and his lips were cherry-red and slightly swollen. As soon he leaned back in, he was interrupted by a loud crack of lightning outside the window that illuminated the room in a bright flash. He yelped in surprise, flinching so hard he fell out of Link’s lap and onto the floor (the twin bed was barely big enough for Link to sit comfortably, not to mention both of them).

They both laughed, and Link was the happiest he’d been in a while.

Ravio slowly found his footing, rubbing his lower back upon which he fell and groaning. “Ow. Lolia, it’s bad out there. It must be getting late... I should probably go back to my room and let you get some rest.”

Link reached out and grabbed his forearm, unable to bring himself to ask him to stay.

Ravio placed a hand on his and deposited it back into Link’s lap. “No, you need sleep. We can talk more later, alright?”

Link huffed. He hated that Ravio was right and that his bed wasn’t big enough for both of them. [ _Goodnight_ ,] he signed, sure his mouth wouldn’t work if he tried. He still felt Ravio’s phantom lips on his, and he wondered if his mouth had turned puffy like Ravio’s. He didn’t have a mirror in his room to check.

Ravio turned to leave, but at the last moment, he spun back around and planted a kiss on Link’s forehead, holding his bangs out of the way with a free hand. “Happy birthday, Mr. Hero,” he grinned, waving goodbye as he closed the door behind him.

Link blew out the candle on his nightstand and flopped backwards onto the bed, looking at the barely-visible ceiling. The gears in his head were turning agonizingly slowly as he processed the day’s events. He kissed Ravio. He actually did it. What did that mean? Were they in a relationship now? He’d never been in a relationship before, but if it meant more kissing, he was definitely okay with it. The wedding would be weird to watch, but as long as they could keep it secret, they’d be fine. Easy enough, right?

Whatever. That was something to think about tomorrow, when he wasn’t slightly tipsy and ridiculously sleepy. He closed his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.

△

“I still don’t know why you chose me to go with you,” Ravio grumbled, pulling on one of his black boots with more force than necessary. “Wouldn’t Zelda be more helpful?”

[ _King Rhoam said I could take whoever I wanted, and if I recall correctly, you volunteered enthusiastically,_ ] Link signed. The sun was about to rise, and Ravio had been complaining nonstop about being woken up so early, but it was necessary to give themselves as much daylight as possible to navigate the Lost Woods. [ _Anyway, you said you’d be honored. I thought you’d be more enthusiastic about potentially unsheathing the Master Sword,_ ] he teased.

At that, Ravio huffed and turned to look at Link. “Don’t say ‘potentially,’ you’re definitely going to do it,” he scolded.

Link didn’t reply and instead opted to put on his green cap, tucking his hair into the back absentmindedly. Since he was now of age, King Rhoam had asked him to attempt to retrieve the legendary Master Sword and allowed him to take one person with him into the Lost Woods, assumedly so that he wouldn’t get as lost. Once Ravio heard “Master Sword”, though, he lit up.

“Wait, he’s sending you to get the Master Sword? _The legendary_ Master Sword?” he cried, tugging at the hair tails that hung in front of his ears. He, Zelda, and Hilda were laying about in the courtyard while Link was being summoned by the king. “No way! I thought it was a myth, it’s _real_?”

“It’s plenty real. It’s just hidden deep in the Lost Woods, and it is only retrievable by the most worthy of warriors,” explained Zelda.

Ravio rolled his eyes. “I _know_. I researched everything I could find about Hyrule for pretty much my whole life. I just thought it was an urban legend or something, but it’s _real_... oh, Mr. Hero, please take me with you!” he begged, clasping his hands together histrionically.

Link looked to Zelda to gauge her opinion. She took a breath and put a hand on his shoulder. “What kind of fiancée would I be if I didn’t let you go?”

“You just don’t want to get lost in the woods,” Hilda deadpanned. In response, Zelda shot her a glare behind Ravio’s back.

Ravio looked at Link with an impressive pair of puppy eyes and Link had no choice but to nod in agreement. Ravio beamed and threw his hands around Link, burying his face in his neck. “Thank you, thank you, _thank you!_ I’m so honored!”

That was yesterday afternoon. Now, though, as Link had to practically drag him out of bed before dawn, Ravio had certainly changed his tune.

[ _Are you ready? Got your sword?_ ] Link asked, standing and stretching. Ravio protested his bringing a sword due to his lack of training, but Link was adamant, just in case.

“Yes,” Ravio moaned, standing to match Link’s stance. “Can we just get going before I fall back asleep?”

Link nodded, gesturing to the door. As he walked, he felt the tail of his green cap hit his shoulder, and he realized how much he missed the feeling. He hadn’t been out on an “adventure” (typically, escorting Zelda to visit the corners of her kingdom and ensure everything is running smoothly while taking the scenic route) in a few months, even though it was one of his favorite duties as a knight. Some of his favorite memories were exploring every nook and cranny in Hyrule with Zelda behind him, wearing his explorer’s dress: his green cap, matching tunic, tan leggings, and brown boots. It felt good to be back in action, to say the least.

As Link led Ravio to the stables, he took in the lucid pre-morning atmosphere. The sky was beginning to brighten, but the sun was nowhere to be found, leaving the courtyard bathed in an alien glow just bright enough to illuminate the few steps ahead of him. The last few stars were twinkling away, and the dawn clouds were rolling in. They made it to the stables and Link jerked his head in the direction of the horse Ravio was supposed to take while untying his own. Zelda had allowed him to take her steed, affectionately named Storm, for the mission after making Link promise up and down that he’d keep it safe, while Link’s horse, Epona, was lent to Ravio for the time being. Storm was stark white, almost luminescent in the early light, and its mane was braided and decorated with ribbons from Zelda’s birthday celebration a month ago.

Link hopped onto the saddle gracefully, while Ravio took a little longer to get situated properly. Once they were both on, Link grabbed a fistful of Storm’s braids and led Ravio out the western gate of Hyrule Castle. As they crossed the moat, the sun finally rose above the horizon, and Link turned back to look at the prince. Ravio was yawning unabashedly, his hair a mess and the tails of his scarf crooked, and despite all this... Link felt an unfamiliar warmth flutter in his chest. His throat felt full of cotton, and not in the way it typically did, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss him at that moment.

He thought back to the kiss (or, rather, kiss _es_ ) the other night. He hadn’t had an opportunity to discuss it with Ravio since; maybe the long horseback ride would suffice. He didn’t even know where to _begin_ talking about it, though. Should he start with the wedding? Or how Link had never liked anyone the way he did Ravio? Or maybe how he couldn’t wait to kiss him again?

“What’s wrong?” Ravio asked, looking at Link with an eyebrow raised.

Oh. He’d forgotten he’d stopped to take in the sunrise on Ravio’s face and was now just staring at him, deep in thought. [ _Nothing_ ,] he signed, and he gently nudged Storm’s belly with a stirrup-clad foot to persuade it to move. [ _If we leave now, we’ll make good time._ ]

△

Despite the mission, Link couldn’t help but take the scenic route to impress Ravio. He had read so much about Hyrule, so it was the least he could do to show him some of the lesser-known parts that were still worth seeing. They passed by one of the many rivers in Hyrule, the Sanctuary with stained-glass windows lit beautifully in the morning light, one of the old ore mines, and the steep cliffs of Death Mountain to their east. Ravio had forgotten his tiredness quickly and his surliness turned to amazement instantaneously.

By the time they reached the Lost Woods, the sun was high in the sky and both he and Ravio were in high spirits. When they approached the outskirts of the woods, though, Ravio gulped.

“We’re here,” announced Link, gesturing widely with his arms. The pine trees were tall, dark, and imposing, with huge, gnarled roots and heavy, hanging branches that threatened to drop on the heads of any unsuspecting passerby. A crow cawed in the distance, making Ravio shudder beside him. “Let’s go.”

As soon as they moved to cross the threshold, Storm and Epona panicked, throwing their heads and nearly bucking their riders off. “Looks like they’re scared of the woods,” Ravio muttered, a trace of fear present in his voice.

“It’s alright,” Link replied, pulling a length of rope from his belt and slicing it in half with his sword. He tied the bridles of the horses to the base of the Lost Woods entry sign, securing both with multiple knots to ensure they wouldn’t break free (Epona especially had a history of escaping). “It’ll probably be easier to navigate without them, anyway.”

Ravio, however, had planted his feet in the grass, “There’s no way I’m going in there.”

Link rolled his eyes and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the entrance. His skin was as cool as always. Thankfully, Ravio let himself get pulled by Link into the forest, and he took an audible breath as they entered.

Link had never been in the Lost Woods before, and he could see why it had a reputation for being terrifying. The dense trees blocked all sunlight from entering, so it was dark and eerie even during the daytime. The woods was oddly absent of any wildlife; similar forests in Hyrule were bustling with squirrels, birds, foxes, even the buzzing of cicadas, but the Lost Woods was completely silent aside from their footsteps in the dead leaves. Link’s pointed ears twitched with unease. 

“Uh, Mr. Hero? I think I just remembered, I left... um, something with Epona, I should probably go get—”

Link looked at him.

“...nevermind.” In response to Ravio’s anxiety, Link squeezed his hand harder, and Ravio squeezed back. They traveled in silence for a while, Ravio’s hand never falling from Link’s as they traversed the forest. There were more twists and turns than clearances, and the lack of wildlife made it unlike any forest Link had ever seen. After a while of walking, Ravio piped up, “Are we almost there?”

Link shrugged.

“...Do you know where we’re going?”

“No.”

“What?” Ravio cried, stopping abruptly and yanking Link backwards. “Are you joking? We’ve been traveling for at least half an hour!”

“It’s the _Lost_ Woods. I figured that if I was ready for the Master Sword, the spirits of the forest would guide me,” said Link, rubbing a hand behind his head. Maybe he should’ve at least left breadcrumbs or something, he felt like he’d seen this same vaguely Lynel-shaped stone no less than five times.

Ravio tilted his head back and groaned, pacing around the small area they found themselves confined within. “Lady Lolia, _this_ is the one I pick to kiss? _This_ is the one I fall for?”

“Hey,” Link grumbled. He’d forgotten that he was going to confront him about the whole kissing thing. “We should just turn back.”

“You think?” said Ravio sarcastically. “I don’t even know where ‘back’ _is_.” He picked one of the four possible exits and pulled back a curtain of beard lichen before stopping and closing his mouth.

“I think we came from this way,” Link began, spinning around and observing the huge log they had walked through. Or was that a different log?  
“Link.”

“It could have been this way, though,” he continued, walking to the one opposite Ravio and touching his chin in thought.

“Link.”  
“Honestly, I have no—”

“Link, I never thought I’d have to tell you this, but _shut up_ ,” Ravio hissed. “Come here.” Link turned and peeked over Ravio’s shoulder where he held the lichen away to reveal the clearance beyond.

And what a clearance it was.

He entered with Ravio flanking close behind. It seemed to be the only place in the whole forest free from the oppressive treetop cover, and sunlight streamed in, attracting plenty of wildlife. All the animals that were absent earlier were here, nibbling on the grass or chirping in the trees, and the sounds were deafening after a half an hour of dead silence. At the center of the clearing was the image of many paintings he’d seen all over Hyrule: the stand of the Master Sword. The triangular pedestal laid no more than four inches above the surrounding dirt, with ornate inscriptions on the sides and a raised area where the sword sat. The sunlight hit the sword just right, making the blade shine brightly as if it hadn’t sat in the stone for centuries waiting for the chosen hero to take it.

“It’s real, I can’t believe it, it’s _really real_ ,” babbled Ravio, eyes wide. “Are you just going to go up there and pull on it?”

“What else?” Link replied, taking a deep breath to steel himself before stepping upon the pedestal.

“Sure! Why not? Just go _yank on the sword that seals the darkness_ ,” Ravio mumbled hysterically.

Link held a finger to his lips to shush him before stepping up to the sword. The guard was beautifully engraved, and it looked just as impressive as every recreation he’d seen. He too another deep breath and closed his eyes, readying his hands on the hilt. His palms fit perfectly, and he took it as a good sign. He readjusted a couple of times, stalling for time, before finally beginning to pull. This would be a struggle, surely.

To his surprise, it immediately slid out of the stone like butter, sending Link falling on his ass. He blinked in surprise, but lo and behold, in his hands was the legendary Master Sword.

“Eh?!” Ravio yelled, running up to kneel besides Link. “It came out that easily?”

Link was stunned, too, and examined the sword closely. Could it be a fake? No, how could anyone venture this deep into the woods to place a fake and then return back? Surely they’d turn into a Skull Kid before they entered and exited the woods safely. On top of that, he knew it couldn’t be fake by the way it thrummed under his palm like it was full to the brim of power waiting to be unleashed. Once Link found his footing again, he took a few experimental slashes into the air. It felt perfectly weighted, with the exact right length and heft for him specifically. It felt like an extension of his own arm.

Incredible.

He turned to look at Ravio, and he was absolutely enamored. “Lolia, my boyfriend has the Master Sword,” Ravio swooned, pulling Link in for a hug and, to his surprise, a quick kiss.

Boyfriend, huh? Link could get used to that.

△

After they raced back to the castle with the good news and after King Rhoam’s obligatory celebratory feast, Link took the sword with him to Zelda’s room.

“Amazing,” Zelda whispered, reaching out to touch it. As soon as her fingers touched the blade, though, she recoiled as if burned and shouted some un-princess-like words.

Hilda startled and pressed her hand to the blade, with furrowed brows. She, too, jumped back and cursed. “It burned me!”

Ravio bit the inside of his cheek, looking puzzled. “Maybe it’s because nobody else is worthy? It’s the sword’s defense mechanism.”

Hilda looked at him plainly. “Why don’t you try it then, o worthy one?”

“Hey, I don’t include myself in that, just Link!” Ravio retorted, raising his hands in defense.

Link snapped to get their attention. [ _We can use it during the deposition._ ]

“You lot are actually going through with that?” queried Hilda.

Zelda nodded fervently. “Of course. Good idea, Link.”

“You’re not planning to _kill_ the king... are you?” Hilda asked with narrowed eyes. Ravio shifted uncomfortably beside Link.

Zelda’s lips pressed together. “We need to be prepared for the worst case scenario,” she said, slowly, tactfully.

At that, Hilda stood from the foot of the bed with her red eyes blazing. “That’s my father you’re talking about! This is _regicide_! This is _patricide_! Ravio, how can you entertain this?” When Ravio didn’t reply, she stormed out of the room, fuming and slamming the door behind her. All three of them winced at the slam.

Ravio sighed, wringing his hands. “It’s alright. She idolizes him far more than I do, even now. She’ll come around, I just have to talk to her.” Link placed a hand on his knee encouragingly, and he forced himself to smile. “So, what’s the plan?”

Zelda lit up. “Thankfully, I’ve discussed this with Hilda, so she’s not missing anything. The wedding’s in two days. We’ll act like everything’s normal until the wedding. Just before the wedding is set to begin, Hilda will ask Yuga to help her with getting ready. When he arrives to her room, Link will incapacitate him and bring him to the dungeon below the cathedral. Link will keep watch over him there, while you and Hilda explain to the wedding guests that the wedding is cancelled, King Yuga is a tyrant, and you are king now. We’ll keep Yuga imprisoned in Hyrule, and you are free to rule Lorule with Hilda, free from his influence.”

Ravio nodded weakly. “This will be difficult for Hilda and I both, despite everything. Please be understanding.”

Zelda pulled him into a hug. “Of course, Ravio. You’re incredibly brave, and I’m lucky to have almost married you.”

He laughed and wiped his eye. “Thanks. You too, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you so much for all your kudos and comments! They really make my day :)


	4. iv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter is finally here! Thank you so much for sticking with me to the end!

The wedding was tomorrow.

The wedding was tomorrow, and Link was laying on his bed in the middle of the night, thinking about the groom.

Well, he wasn’t _just_ thinking about the groom; he was thinking about the father-in-law, too, and their plan to overthrow him. He hoped it would work, not only for Ravio and Hilda’s sakes, but for the entirety of Lorule. The atrocities Ravio had described to him... they were unforgivable. Letting your kingdom fall into ruin while maintaining a lavish lifestyle yourself was the hallmark of a despicable despot.

Link took a deep breath.

To his surprise, he heard a knock on the door. Who could it be at this hour? Zelda? Before Link could say “come in,” the door was open, and standing in the doorway was none other than Ravio.

“Hi,” Ravio squeaked quietly, his hands worrying at the hem of his nightgown. He was clad in only that nightgown that fell to his knees, the silky fabric dyed purple and trimmed with black lace, and his stupid scarf. “I didn’t really think through what I’d do once I came here,” he confessed, closing the door behind him. “I’m sorry to wake you up.”

“You didn’t wake me up.” Link sat up in bed, lit the candle by his nightstand, and patted the comforter beside him, inviting him to sit. Ravio hesitantly sat, refusing to make eye contact. “What’s the matter?” Link whispered. “Are you worried about tomorrow?”

Ravio nodded, still looking askance. “Terrified.”

Link laced his fingers with Ravio’s, squeezing his hand hard. “It’ll turn out alright, no matter what happens. I promise.” His voice was hoarse, but Ravio didn’t seem to mind. Ravio hummed quietly in response, seeming unconvinced. Link thought for a second before bringing the back of Ravio’s hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to it. He finally turned to look at him, and Link could see him blush despite the dim lighting.

Ravio brought himself closer to Link in bed and kissed him chastely before murmuring, “Thank you.”

Before Ravio could kiss him again, Link asked, “Am I your boyfriend?” Immediately he kicked himself for asking such a stupid question—he just didn’t want to assume, he’d never had anyone like him before, and Ravio was so out of his league...

Ravio shrugged and grinned the cheeky grin that always meant he was getting into trouble. “If you want to be.”

Link’s eyes fell back to Ravio’s lips, as they always did. “I do,” he breathed. At that, Ravio crashed down into him, refusing to hold back like he did earlier. These kisses weren’t chaste at all—they were rough, hard, they made Link feel his pulse in his lips, they made him never want to speak again and instead use his mouth for this forever. Ravio grazed his teeth along his bottom lip, and Link exhaled shakily, grabbing Ravio’s hips and pulling him into his lap. He left one hand on his hip while his other came up to undo that cursed scarf and throw it to the floor, just like that one night that felt like centuries ago, back when Link was certain he’d never have Ravio under his thumb like this.

Ravio made a noise into his mouth at the removal of his scarf, and Link finally pulled away, an obscene string connecting their lips. Link wiped his mouth and reattached it to Ravio’s neck, making him gasp above him. Link had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but judging by Ravio’s responses, he couldn’t have been doing poorly; Ravio was incredibly vocal, to the point that Link worried about the soundproof qualities of the garrison wall. He sucked hard at the soft skin under his teeth and Ravio writhed and made soft sounds, obviously very sensitive under that thick scarf. “F-Fuck, Link, you’re going to leave a mark—” he sighed, cutting himself off with a curtailed moan.

At that, Link bit down, making Ravio yelp in surprise. He wished he could’ve listened to that sound on loop, but he’d settle for the closest he could get and attacked the adjacent skin, lapping at the flesh before sucking to elicit a similar noise. Once he was satisfied with his handiwork, he separated with a vulgar pop and looked at the damage he’d done. Ravio’s neck was now splotched with varying shades of crimson and violet, painted like watercolor, and the look he gave Link while angling his neck for his viewing pleasure was filthy.

He pressed his mouth to an untouched space on his jugular and Ravio hissed, knotting his fingers in Link’s blonde mess of hair and tugging. Ravio managed to pull him off of his neck for long enough to shuck off Link’s sleeping shirt, and they both sat for a second, catching their breaths and observing each other’s disheveled state. Link couldn’t resist anymore and captured his mouth again, attacking it with the same force he did his neck (he didn’t even know he had this level of possessiveness in him, and he didn’t know what to think about it) while Ravio squirmed and made small sounds.

Before he could hike Ravio’s nightgown up, the door opened.

“Link, I need—” Zelda began before stopping in her tracks while her voice turned incredulous, “Lady Hylia, you’re _kissing my fiance_.”

Link and Ravio separated at the speed of light, flying to opposite ends of the bed. Ravio leaned over and picked his scarf off the floor, fastening it around his neck once more and tugging it as high as it would go. [ _Zelda, I am so sorry—_ ] Link began signing, his face hot with shame, but was interrupted by the shrill sound of Zelda cackling.

“You couldn’t have waited until the marriage was officially off?!” she laughed, clutching her stomach. “I knew it!”

Ravio had curled himself into a ball of embarrassment, so Link signed exasperatedly, [ _What did you come here for?_ ]

Zelda simply shook her head and waved her hand. “Oh, it was nothing, I just wanted to soothe some of my nerves, and you did just that—I really needed that laugh. Thank you so much,” she smiled. “Just... be careful, alright? The wedding’s tomorrow, and we can’t have the groom covered in hickeys.”

Ravio and Link looked at each other, and Ravio pulled the scarf away to reveal his neck, which was covered in more bruises than not. “How bad is it?”

[ _Pretty bad._ ]

“Shit.”

△

The day had finally arrived.

The entire castle was abuzz with nervous energy, unable to believe that the Lorulean loyalty actually followed through with the wedding. While Hilda was helping Zelda get ready, Link was assisting Ravio, separated by sex as was traditional. Ravio was an anxious mess, and so was Link; he kept rubbing the bracelet Ravio had given him to calm his nerves, but it only worked the first few times.

“Lolia, I can’t do it. I can’t do it,” he hyperventilated, drumming his ring-covered fingers on the vanity at which he sat. His makeup and most of his hair were already done up to the nines, and he looked positively regal; his eyes were lined with kohl and a shimmering purple pigment that highlighted his emerald eyes, while his hair was tied in a half-up, half-down configuration, the longest bits touching the bottom of his shoulder blades. His already-thick eyebrows were plucked and filled in to give him a perfectly princely expression, while his pale skin was dusted with such a fine layer of rouge that it was hard to perceive. He’d used what little magic he had to hide the dark purple bruises on his neck, all the while berating Link for giving them to him in the first place.

Link stood behind him, fastening silver hair jewelry into his intricate braids, and looked at him in the mirror. “You’ll do fine,” Link murmured, pressing a quick kiss to the space behind his ear, grateful that they were alone in the room. “It’s time to get you dressed.” He tugged Ravio up and towards the wall on which his suit hung, and he carefully tugged off his shirt as to not disturb the makeup.

The suit was magnificent—the jacket was made of a fabric Link had never seen before that shifted between black and dark violet, and the edges were hemmed with small viridian-green jewels and ornate silver filigree. After Ravio stepped into the trousers, Link buttoned his undershirt, refusing to make eye contact, and tied his emerald cravat around his neck. Having to dress his boyfriend to go marry his best friend was... a strange experience, to say the least. While Link was tying the cravat, Ravio shrugged on the royal purple waistcoat and tucked a silver watch away in the pocket, letting the chain dangle across his chest. Link took a step back and handed him the suitjacket, and Lady Hylia, he was _gorgeous_.

He wasn’t sure what it was—the makeup, the outfit, the hair?—but Ravio looked every inch the prince he was despite his wringing hands and nervous demeanor. Despite everything, Link really had fallen for him over the past month and a half, hadn’t he? He reached out to touch his face but remembered his makeup and instead picked his crown up from the vanity and placed it upon his head gingerly. The crown was silver and absolutely covered in precious gems, Yuga’s flashy design no doubt, and completed the ensemble perfectly. Link took a step closer to Ravio and placed a hand on his chest over his heart, unable to feel his heartbeat through the layers of the suit.

“Link, I—” Ravio began, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. They sprung apart like the same end of two magnets and turned to see who the intruder was.

It was the Captain with Hilda in tow behind him, looking distraught. “Link, come with me.”  
[ _But_ —] he signed.

“It’s an order from King Rhoam,” the Captain demanded, and Link had no choice but to follow him. He shot Ravio a glance over his shoulder, and the look on his face made his heart falter. He bit his cheek and followed the Captain out of the room.

[ _What’s going on?_ ] Link signed to Hilda behind the Captain’s back. She didn’t reply, and Link feared for the worst. Did the king catch wind of their plan? How could he? The Master Sword strapped under his shirt felt as if it was burning against his skin—since legendary swords weren’t typically brought to a wedding, he had hidden it by fastening it flat against his spine with a thin belt under his decorative armor. Since the cuirass was so bulky, the sword was undetectable yet secure. He had to be extra careful of his posture, but it was concealed well, and fairly easy to unsheath if needed by just reaching under his shirt.

He realized once they began to descend a flight of steps their destination was the dungeon beneath the cathedral, where they were planning on keeping Yuga. Link’s pulse spiked, and he twisted to look at Hilda. Was the Captain in on this? Maybe they’d already captured Yuga, and Link had nothing to be worried about. Yes, that must be the case! They finally reached the last steps and the damp dungeon laid before them.

Before Link could ask, the Captain had grabbed him by the neck of his decorative armor and thrown him in, pushing Hilda in after and slamming the door shut.

Link and Hilda made matching sounds of shock. “What are you doing?” asked Hilda with an accusatory tone.

“King Rhoam’s orders,” the Captain reiterated.

“You’ve made a mistake! King Rhoam would never send me to a dungeon, especially not on the royal wedding day!” Hilda shouted, grabbing two of the iron bars with enough force that Link could make out the strings of muscles in her forearms. “Let us out this instant!”

The Captain looked at her with a glint of sympathy in his eyes while he locked the door. “I’m sorry, Dame. There’s been rumors of a coup.”

“You must be...” Hilda began, but the Captain was already ascending the stairs once more. Once the sounds of his steps disappeared, she turned to face Link.

As the dungeon was silent for a minute, Link felt fury unfurl inside his chest. He understood now. “You _snitched_?” he growled, his voice coming out shaky with anger. It was a miracle it came out at all—typically, when emotions were high, his voice abandoned him entirely.

In the dim lighting, he could make out a tear dripping down her cheek. “I fucked up,” she whispered, barely more than a breath.

“You did!” Link retorted, his hands balling into fists as he remembered Ravio’s scar, and his stories of destruction in Lorule. “How could you?”

She began to hiccup, the tears flowing freely now. “I’m s-so sorry, I just—I wanted his approval, I thought that if I—”

“This is your chance to overthrow your corrupt government, and all you can think about is _making your father proud?_ ” Link yelled, his voice cracking and falling out beneath him. He couldn’t remember the last time he screamed, really screamed, and he almost felt guilty as Hilda slid to the floor in shock. But then he remembered Yuga’s smarmy face, and he spat, “He _disfigured_ your brother!”

Hilda wiped one of her eyes, smearing mascara on her face. “He... what?”

Link paused, the red in his vision subsiding. “You don’t know?” he asked, utterly confused. When she shook her head no, he explained what Ravio told him—the way he stuck up for Hilda, Yuga’s magic, the reason for the scarf—and her eyes went blank.

She took a minute to process, and the only sounds were that of water dripping somewhere in the cell. “I had no idea. He told me it was a Gigabari...” she muttered, voice quiet and emotionless. “...He did it in my defense.” More tears rolled down her face, and her voice was completely empty. “I can’t believe it. Father...”

Link took a deep breath and knelt beside her, his anger giving way to pity. “I understand this must come as a shock.”

“To say the least,” Hilda sniffed, rubbing her face again and smearing her makeup even more. Suddenly, her lip curled, and she brought a hand to her hair, ripping out the ribbons and braids, leaving her hair a tangled mess while Link watched dumbfounded. “I wanted his approval so badly... I wanted to be _princess_ so badly... I thought he’d hear me out if I told him. Last night, he thanked me, and patted my head, and told me he was proud of me for taking his side. I thought... well, I don’t know what I was thinking.” As Hilda talked, she looked more and more like a spirit of some sort, with messy hair, trails of mascara running down her face, and her ears turned bright red at the tips. Link had never seen her so disheveled—or so livid.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He didn’t know what else to do. (How did _he_ end up apologizing to _her_?)

She took a deep breath and managed to make eye contact with Link for the first time since they approached the dungeon. Her red irises were free of sadness, and filled with the rage that Link felt a few minutes ago. “Let’s crash that fucking wedding.”

Link grinned and stood, holding his hand out to help her up, too, and made his way to leave until he looked at the iron bars. Hm.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Hilda groaned, grabbing a bar as if she could pry it open with her bare hands. The Master Sword felt scalding hot against Link’s skin, and he got an idea. He unsheathed the sword (he could’ve sworn it looked like it was glowing, but maybe it was a trick of the light) and sliced at the bars. To his and Hilda’s amazement, the bars turned red hot and melted under the blade, the metal dripping to the ground and leaving a hole large enough for them to exit through. “That works,” Hilda remarked, stepping through the hole with no delay.

△

They sneaked out of the dungeon as quietly as possible, arriving at the side door of the chapel in minutes and hiding behind a decorative pillar. The sanctuary was covered in wedding decor; white rose swags hung at the end of every pew, colorful banners adorned the far end of the chapel, and every figure at the altar (King Rhoam, King Yuga, Impa, the fiances, and the priest) were dressed in pristine white outfits. The wedding had already begun—Zelda and Ravio stood at the altar, Zelda holding a bouquet and Ravio with his arms folded behind his back. Link could barely make out fine lines of worry on each of their faces; they must have known that something was wrong since he and Hilda weren’t there to walk each of them down the aisle. Zelda looked ethereal in her white dress covered in gold accents and thin veil covering her face. Her floor-length dress had long sleeves and a golden belt set with sapphires around her waist, as well as a long train, dramatic silhouette, and a tiara just as extravagant as her dress. She looked beautiful—it was a shame it wasn’t under better circumstances.

None of the party noticed him or Hilda yet, since they were focused on the bride and groom; even King Rhoam, King Yuga, Impa, and the surrounding guards were preoccupied while the priest spoke. [ _I didn’t intend to make as much as of a scene as we’re about to,_ ] Link signed before nodding at Hilda and jumping into the aisle beside her.

“We object to this wedding!” Hilda screamed, making the heads of every person in the cathedral turn. She must’ve looked feral, with black spider legs trailing down her face and a wild mess of hair, and Link felt the Master Sword hot on his spine where he’d stashed it once more.

King Yuga yelled back, “What are you doing?!” with his snide, nasally voice. Link was _definitely_ going to enjoy imprisoning him.

“Standing up for justice, Father!” Hilda replied, and a murmur spread throughout the room. She and Link ran to the altar.

“Father?” King Rhoam queried, looking at Yuga beside him as both knights grabbed one of his arms and twisted them behind his back.

“Now is _not the time_ —” Yuga hissed, thrashing in their grips, but he was interrupted.

Ravio turned and spoke, his voice clear as a bell despite his shaking fists. “You’re an abusive tyrant, Father! Please let Hilda and Link detain you peacefully. Nobody has to get hurt.”

Yuga managed to shake Hilda off and reached into his coat to retrieve a sceptre that shone with an eerie blue flame. With one swift motion, he swept the sceptre widely and threw Link and Hilda to opposite sides of the sanctuary. The air was knocked out of Link’s lungs immediately, and he knew his back would hurt in the morning.

“Link!” Zelda shrieked. The wedding guests gasped, and Impa ran to the pews to join them. With furrowed brows, Zelda pulled a glove off of her right hand and presented her piece of the Triforce. It was radiating an amber light, and Link took her lead, approaching the altar once more and presenting his piece as well while he unsheathed the Master Sword.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to happen—maybe for the Master Sword to grow more powerful?—but it wasn’t for Yuga to wail and begin a sinister transformation. The wedding company ran for the doors, but it seemed as if Yuga had locked them with magic, and instead they cowered behind the last row of pews as his caterwaul turned to a roar. Before their eyes, the wicked king transformed into a giant pig-like monster, bearing Yuga’s carmine curls and now-ripped clothing but not much other resemblance. His eyes were blank white, and his teeth were ugly, gnarled fangs protruding from his lower jaw, almost touching his porcine nose. His—no, _its_ —physique was huge, each one of its biceps the side of five of Link’s head. On the back of one of its hands was a piece of the Triforce; it must’ve been activated by Zelda’s and Link’s, but he wasn’t sure how Yuga got a hold of it. Did he steal it?

“Ganon!” Zelda gasped, and Link’s eyes widened. Of course, he’d teamed up with Ganon! Link was a fool for not realizing it earlier.

Yuga bellowed and swung its sceptre once more, swiping Zelda to the ground. Hilda rushed to her side, pulling a concealed sword and shielding the princess with her body. Ravio ran down the altar towards Link, who held his arm out to guard him as he hid. Yuga held its staff in front of its chest, the fire at the tip beginning to grow, and Link speculated it must be charging a magic attack. Link rushed it. He feinted to the right, and when Yuga tried to bat him with a massive hand, Link sliced its belly from the left, catching part of its tattered royal dress in the blade. Yuga yowled and a black liquid poured from the wound, almost making Link gag with the stench of death.

Link fell back, out of its reach, and it threw his staff like a javelin in response. Link darted out of the way at the last second and it hit the wooden floor with a sickening splintering sound. Yuga gestured with its hand and it flew back, resting in his palm once more. Shit—that staff had a long reach, and Link didn’t have much operating room. In fact, the only operating room he had was the aisle, since the pews were far too close together to quickly jump between. Link sliced his sword through the air and a beam flew from the Master Sword, landing between Yuga’s eyes perfectly (thank Hylia; he’d heard the Master Sword would fire beams at full capacity, but he hadn’t tried it).

Yuga roared again. It reached up to rub its eyes, and Link saw his chance. He sprinted up the aisle and readied his arms to jab, but at the last second, Yuga’s hands fell from its face and it slashed. _It was a trap_ , he realized a moment too late as a streak of magic struck him square in the chest, bypassing the kitschy decorative armor like it was wet paper.

He hit the floor hard and all he saw was stars. The pain was excruciating, like lightning traveling through his entire body, and he idly wondered if this was what Ravio’s neck scar felt like in the making. He felt as if he was on the verge of passing out, but the pain began to fade in his chest. As his vision came back to him, he leaned against a pew and looked down at his bloodied undershirt where the useless cuirass had completely fallen from his chest. He saw Ravio’s bracelet on his wrist glow purple as the pain began to fade, leaving a dull numbness behind. He realized it was Ravio’s stored magic kicking in to heal him, and his head fell back to thump against the hardwood pew.

Link tried to will himself to stand, but his limbs were lead, far too heavy to move. This was it. Ravio’s magic, although helpful, was taking its sweet time to heal the wound, and he definitely wouldn’t be able to stand for a while. Hilda wouldn’t be able to defeat Yuga with her plain iron sword—he had merged with Ganon, and the only sword that could kill it now was the Master Sword—and she must’ve known that, because she didn’t move from her protective position covering the princess. The only one who could wield the sword was Link, and he was incapacitated. This was the end. His eyelids slipped shut.

“Father, please!” he heard Ravio cry from behind him. He craned his neck and opened his eyes to look at him, and he saw tears streaming down his face. He, too, had mascara smudges like Hilda, and the resemblance was obvious. How could he have not noticed they were half-siblings earlier?

Yuga didn’t reply. Instead, it howled and began stomping over to him. As a consequence of its towering size, it destroyed the inside of the lines of pews on both sides as it made its way down the aisle. Link didn’t look at it; instead, he kept his eyes trained on Ravio, wishing he could help, if only he could _move_ , just _move, damn it!_ Yuga’s magic must have paralyzed him temporarily as it did Zelda.

Ravio was panicking. Link could see his suit heave with each of his fast breaths, and he could almost feel his heart pounding, an erratic _thump, thump, th-thump_ resonating in his wrist under the bracelet. Ravio was about to die, and it was Link’s fault. His eyes grew hot and watery, and the Master Sword in his lap burned like hellfire.

The next few seconds were a blur, and Link wasn’t sure if it was delirium or reality.

Yuga was coming quickly. Ravio, in his terror, reached over Link and grabbed the Master Sword. “I’m sorry!” he screamed, his voice cracking, and he brought the sword down the monster that used to be his father’s entire front. The slash bisected its face, its chest, and its belly, and the black ooze that acted as its blood gushed like a bastardized fountain. The liquid painted Ravio’s entire front and parts of Link pitch black.

Link realized he had taught Ravio that move. Despite everything, he was proud.

Yuga died silently, the only sound in the chapel being its freshly-dead body collapsing to the ground and Ravio sobbing violently. The church was morbidly quiet. The guests, Hilda, Zelda—none dared make a sound. Ravio rushed to Link’s side and fell to his knees, wiping some of the inky blood from his face. “We need a fucking medic!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, his voice broken. He pressed a kiss to Link’s forehead desperately. “Stay awake, please,” he wept, wrapping his arms around Link. Against his will, Link’s eyes fell shut and he blacked out.

△

When Link woke up next, he was in a hospital bed. His chest was bandaged thoroughly, and it hurt to even think about moving. The light coming in from the windows was blinding, making him wince in protest. He finally convinced his eyes to open, and he saw Ravio sitting by his bedside, and he jumped to his feet. “Link! Oh, Lady Lolia, you’re awake!” He frantically pressed a kiss to the back of Link’s palm and squeezed it. “You’ve been sleeping for a week. You were mere inches from death after the clash with Yuga. The doctor said you likely only survived due to the countermagic from my bracelet... I was so scared, Link,” he rambled, the relief palpable in his voice.

Link looked up at him and smiled. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was wildly unbrushed, but Hylia, he was a sight for sore eyes. He knew he couldn’t move his hands, so he said, “What now?”

Ravio sighed and sat back down, refusing to release Link’s hand. “Well, we’re not quite sure. We explained everything—Yuga’s abuse, Lorule’s slow destruction—and everyone was very understanding. I imagine it’s hard to defend a man who turned into a pig monster and tried to murder multiple people, including his own children,” he began, and he sounded so weary, so tired, for someone as young as he. “King Rhoam wanted to continue with the arranged marriage anyway, but Zelda stopped him and came out to him in the process. He took it better than anyone could’ve anticipated, but I imagine he had worse things to worry about.”

Link snorted. Of _course_ he’d managed to miss that in his rest. Or was it a coma? He wasn’t sure which it was, with how long he’d been out. He thought back to that day a week ago. He wasn’t terribly surprised that Yuga had been working with Ganon, but something tickled at the back of his mind. “The Master Sword…?” he began, unable to form the rest of the question.

Ravio shrugged and rubbed a thumb over Link’s knuckles. “We still don’t know why I was able to wield it back then. It burns me now. I guess in the moment I was worthy… maybe the spirit of the sword knew what I’d gone through,” he mumbled, eyes cloudy. Link thought he was probably traumatized from his time with the Master Sword, and his chest grew heavy. “Or maybe it was because it was in Ganon’s presence. Who knows?”

Link thought it wise to change the subject. “What about Lorule?”

“King Rhoam wants to annex Lorule and call it a day, but I can’t let him do that. I’d feel so horribly guilty if I left him to fix all of our problems for us, especially when Hilda and I were complicit in allowing Yuga to destroy it like he did. However, I’m not fit to be king... I’m young, and if I’m being honest, I’m not even sure if I _want_ to be king. We’re in quite a conundrum,” Ravio confessed, electing to look at Link’s hand and not his face.

Link forced himself to sit up, and Ravio supported his shoulder, quietly scolding him for moving. “Didn’t Hilda want to be royalty anyway?” he muttered as he rubbed his aching back.

Ravio blinked. After he took a second to digest what Link was saying, he leaned forward and kissed him on the lips over and over, much to Link’s surprise (but not chagrin). Between pecks, he grinned and looked down at him with his eyes full of fondness as if they’d been married for decades. “Mr. Hero, you’re a _genius_.”

△

Another week of bedrest passed in a blurry haze.

His regular visitors were Ravio and Zelda, and they seemed to take shifts, but Hilda came to visit him once. There, she apologized over and over, her guilt overflowing from her lips like a fountain. She also explained Yuga’s plan; she had found his journal while cleaning out his guest room in the castle, and it was horrifying. Apparently, he’d planned to kill Zelda and King Rhoam after the wedding, leaving Ravio (and, therefore, Yuga) next in line for the Hyrule throne, and Link wasn’t surprised. As she explained the plan, her voice dripped with revulsion, and she reiterated many times that if she had known about Yuga’s plan, she would have never stayed loyal to him.

Then, Ravio and Hilda were set to leave Hyrule the next day. They’d overstayed their original one-month plan by a long shot, but King Rhoam let them know that they were free to stay as long as they needed. Ravio politely declined the offer, knowing that Lorule was likely even more of a mess than they’d left it, although Link noticed he and Hilda took more time to pack than was strictly necessary (to be fair, when Link was supposed to be helping Ravio pack, they didn’t get much done). He was reluctant to see them go, too.

The three of them stood at the entry gates to Hyrule Castle, with the Lorulean royal coach waiting just outside. A handful of guards were loading their luggage onto the back while they said their goodbyes. The horses were getting antsy, scraping at the stone with their hooves.

“Where’s Zelda?” asked Hilda, and Link shrugged.

Immediately after as if summoned, Zelda came running from her tower with a huge suitcase. “Don’t go yet!” she yelled, finally stopping at Ravio and Hilda’s feet and dropping her bag on the stone ground. “Link and I are coming with you,” she panted.

“What?!” Hilda and Ravio asked incredulously in unison.

Zelda nodded and righted herself, having caught her breath. “I begged Father, and he finally agreed to let me and Link visit Lorule and help begin the rebuilding process.” She flipped her blonde hair behind her and smiled one of the most genuine smiles Link had ever seen on her, obviously feeling proud of herself. Before he could ask where his luggage was, a guard appeared from behind Zelda and dropped a matching case on the ground. Ah.

Link could see Ravio wipe his eyes as his chin wobbled. Hilda stomped her foot. “I can’t let you do this. Why are you being so kind to me? I _snitched_! I almost ruined everything, all for the fleeting support of my abusive father. I can’t fall deeper into your debt,” she pleaded.

Zelda held one of Hilda’s hands in her own, and Link quirked an eyebrow—he wondered if he and Ravio weren’t alone in their tentative relationship, but it wasn’t the time to ask. “It’s alright, truly. You’ve apologized hundreds of times, and I’ve forgiven you every time. After all, Hyrule and Lorule are sister kingdoms, aren’t they, Queen Hilda?” she assured, placing proud emphasis on the title “queen.”

Hilda sniffled and bear-hugged Zelda, knocking her back a few steps before burying her face in her neck. “I can’t thank you enough, Princess,” she said into Zelda’s jaw while Zelda pet her indigo hair comfortingly.

While they had their moment, Ravio turned. “If I can say something... I was hoping you’d come, Link. Now that I’m stepping down from the throne, I’ll have a lot of free time on my hands, and I’d like to give you a tour of Lorule. We don’t have a Lost Woods—well, we have a Skull Woods, but it’s about as friendly as it sounds—but I want to repay the favor.” He sheepishly rubbed his ring-free fingers together and added in a hushed tone, “It would be nice if you continued training me, too. Don’t tell Hilda, but one day, I want to be her knight, like you’re Zelda’s.”

Link leaned forward and lightly kissed Ravio’s lips. “Sounds great,” he croaked, his throat raw. The pathetic sound made Ravio laugh, and Link attempted to clear his throat to no avail while his pointed ears turned pink.

Once Zelda was able to pry Hilda off of her, the four of them looked at each other for a moment. Immediately after Yuga’s death, Ravio had cut his long hair himself, and now it was shorter than Link’s; he kept the sideburn tails and bangs but shorn the rest, now a shaggy, slightly uneven cut that fell no farther than his neck. Additionally, instead of the huge crystal earrings he wore previously, now Ravio wore tiny studs in his ears. His fingers were bare of the large rings, too, and Link had to wonder if it was to distance himself from the way Yuga had him decorated with braids and jewelry. He looked… well, he looked _gorgeous_ , not to mention more comfortable.

After a second of comfortable silence, Zelda smirked and announced, “Last one to the coach is a rotten Cucco egg!” before taking off in the direction of the coach.

“Unfair!” Ravio protested, taking a moment to ensure his scarf was tied tightly and give Link a kiss on the cheek before sprinting after her, while Hilda followed close behind. They _were_ still young after all, weren’t they?

Link deliberately stayed back even though he was probably the fastest of the four, not only to protect his still-sore chest, but because watching his three friends (and boyfriend) run to the royal carriage made the past two months finally sink in in his mind. They’d grown inseparably close, stopped an arranged marriage, and taken down a tyrant; Link had fallen in love, and he suspected that Zelda, did, too; he’d trained a helpless prince in swordfighting, and he’d been hugged more times than in the rest of his life combined; he’d met three people from a country no one had heard from in centuries; he’d stood up for a pair of half-royal half-siblings he had just met, and he couldn’t help but be proud at all they’d accomplished.

He was more excited for the future than he had ever been, even though he was definitely going to be the last to the coach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for your support! This fic has been super fun to write (I might write a super fluffy [or maybe a dash of smut lmao] epilogue... but for now this is it lol). I'll definitely write more ravioli in the future :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! The other chapters will be longer, I promise. Comments & kudos are greatly appreciated! This fic updates on Wednesdays, so see you in a week! :)


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